The end of April contains the sound of wind, and the wind contains the sound of thunder. The thunder was interrupted by the rapid cry of killing, startling the birds in the forest. The fighting on the northern border never stopped. Thousands of canine descendants continued to plunder southward, constantly fighting with the warriors of Ottopan State. Then hundreds of Mexica scouts joined. The elite warriors of the kingdom were fully armed, and under the leadership of the Otomi scouts, they fought one after another with the Guakili people and gained the absolute upper hand.
After several fights, the invading Guakili tribe noticed something different. Soon, a brutal ambush ended in the mountain forest. Two red-haired senior Guakili warriors looked solemn as they carefully inspected the corpses of several new enemies.
Due to low productivity, the Guakili people are still in the barbaric tribal age, and the primitive tribal alliance has just taken shape. Each large tribe has a limited population, with the most numbering only around 10,000 people. There is no obvious wealth differentiation in the tribe, and naturally there are no nobility and warriors.
Within the Guakili tribe, except for a very small number of priests, there are usually only four simple and crude levels: the first level is boys who cannot fight and can be abandoned by the tribe at any time; the second level is those who can fight and give birth. Young people are regarded as the foundation of the tribe; the third level is the warriors who have mastered combat skills, the core of each tribe's strength; and the last is the senior warriors who have experienced battles and are the people who truly hold power in the tribe. These high-ranking warriors often dyed their hair a sacred red as a symbol of blessing from the gods. As for the old and weak in the tribe who are unable to fight and work hard, they are usually not treated as humans, and they do not live long at all.
"Damn it! Amosi, where did this enemy come from? It's like a cactus on the plateau, hard and prickly!"
Looking at the dead canine corpses around him, the young red-haired warrior let out an angry growl.
"I used a hundred-man team, but I couldn't surround twenty people! The tribe lost twenty-five warriors, leaving less than ten corpses!"
"Iwekan, in the wilderness, an angry coyote cannot catch a vigilant antelope. You have to suppress your anger and learn to observe and wait."
Amoxi, the older red-haired warrior, shook his head. He groped carefully on the corpse in front of him, and then laid out everything he touched.
"An obsidian dagger, an obsidian war club, and five packs of replacement obsidian sharp blades. Hiss, what a wealthy tribe!"
Amosi exclaimed. He continued his inspection with a hint of confusion in his expression.
"A golden necklace, engraved with the sun and hummingbirds. It should be a prayer tool. Hey, it's not made of wood, but gold, which the people of the city like?"
"An ax with a short handle on one side? What is this made of? It's really sharp and hard, a good thing!"
"Well, a tough rattan hat, a rattan shield, and a complete set of cotton armor, with the key parts thickened with leather. Hmm, this smell, is it soaked in precious oil? No wonder the warriors' hunting bows can't shoot wear!"
"Finally, a small cotton bag, inside...dried leaves and fresh grass?"
Amosi studied it for a moment, but found nothing. He turned his head and shouted loudly.
"Iwekan, you are the scout captain of the Red Fox tribe, and you have inherited more knowledge than me. Come and see, what are these?"
Ivican approached with a frown. He picked up the leaves, sniffed them vigorously, and then tasted the fresh grass.
"Hey, the feathery leaves, the special aroma, the ink leaves? The slightly spicy taste, the fresh juice, is it spicy grass? Ah, these are carefully collected and treasured by the tribal priests. They are expensive herbs that can heal wounds and stop bleeding. How can they On a regular scout! Damn it, damn it!"
Unexpectedly stimulated by some unknown source, Iwekan's anger suddenly burned like a flame. He angrily took out a cactus fruit from his waist and threw it into the sky with all his strength. Then, the scout captain took off the short hunting bow from his back, attached the animal tooth arrow on the reed pole, and shot into the sky with "swish, swish, swish"!
His shooting skills are so superb that every arrow will hit the cactus fruit accurately, and even line up with the previous arrow! The fist-sized fruit stayed in the air for ten breaths before turning into dozens of fragments and scattered on the ground.
"Wow, I praise the God of Wind. He is really capable of shooting down the condor! He is worthy of being the scout captain of a big tribe!"
Amosi was full of smiles and praised sincerely. After venting, Iweikan's emotions calmed down. He stamped his feet fiercely.
"Damn! So what does it matter if you have good shooting skills? These new enemies are well-equipped and capable of fighting. They are completely different from the poor and war-fearing Otomi people! Each of them is richer than me, and they all have strong armors and helmets. They even have There is a thick shield! The archery skills that the tribal archers are proud of cannot break through the defense and cause effective damage!"
Ivican gritted his teeth. He only had a hunting bow, a stone spear, a damaged cotton armor, and an obsidian dagger. The cotton armor and dagger were both seized from the Otomi people not long ago. At this moment, the scout captain looked at the equipment spread out on the ground and continued to curse angrily with red eyes.
"Damn it! Where did this huge tribe come from? War sticks, daggers, hatchets, shields... a scout's weapons and equipment can arm three tribal warriors! Their fighting skills are far more skillful than the Otomi people. The will to fight is much stronger. Even when surrounded by several times the enemy, no one wavered and surrendered. What a dangerous jaguar! Spring plowing is approaching. If we don’t understand the situation of these people, how can the tribe go south and how can they settle down with peace of mind? ?”
"Ivican, I have asked about the captured Otomi prisoners. These people are Aztec warriors, senior warriors of the Mexica Alliance. They are reinforcements invited by the Otomi people, Mi from the south. Kencho Lake District!”
"The Aztecs? Ah, the rock cactus tribe that worships the sun? I have indeed heard rumors that they are good at fighting... Mickencho Lake area? Isn't that the territory of the Talas Condor tribe? Why are there Aztecs? Kill people?"
"A year ago, the powerful Condor tribe was wiped out by the even more powerful Aztecs. On the land of the Condor tribe, the Aztec chief created a new chief, Xiulote. It is said that he is a descendant of the God of Death, possesses the magic of the gods, and is also very powerful..."
Amosi had a serious look on his face and spoke seriously about the news that had been passed down through several hands.
"By the way, he is also the sworn brother of the new leader of the Otomi people. At the request of the Otomi people, he led his troops north to support this time, bringing a total of 10,000 soldiers with him!"
"What? There are ten thousand more such warriors?"
Ivican gasped. He looked at Amosi with doubt on his face.
"I don't believe it! Is this news accurate? How many prisoners can be counted?"
"I don't know, and I don't believe it either. There are several newly captured Otomi prisoners in the tribal camp, and one of them seems to be a noble. You can ask yourself."
Amosi shook his head. He must have been unable to count such a huge number, so he was also very suspicious.
"Well! When the hyenas are hunting antelopes, where can they expose their backs so that the dangerous golden eagles can watch? Amosi, the matter is urgent. Let's go north and return to your tribe's camp!"
Amosi nodded in agreement. He turned around and took a few steps, then thought of something and turned back quickly. Then, he grabbed a dagger from the ground and put it in his hand; he picked up a copper ax and put it on his waist; finally he picked up the cloth bag of herbs and carefully put it in his arms.
Iwekan turned around and saw that Amosi was still reluctant to leave, and roared loudly in anger.
"Damn it! Amosi, go quickly, business is important! I will let the soldiers leave a set of things for you!"
"Ah, well then! Ivican, my friend, your words must count!"
Amosi looked at the holes in the cotton armor on the ground reluctantly, finally turned around and started running quickly.
A canine's run is always swift. The group quickly headed north and returned to the camp in just one day. Iwekan immediately attracted the prisoners of the Otomi people. After questioning him carefully for a long time, he looked solemn and immediately took the prisoner northward.
The scout team traveled a long distance, first crossing the southern border of Parmesan, and running for two more days, finally arriving in a warm valley. The towering mountains shield the cold wave from the north and insulate the dangerous cold from outside. Gurgling streams flow down from the mountains and converge in the lower parts of the valley, forming a shallow lake.
Thousands of Guakili descendants settled near the lake in the valley. A red fox flag, a shallow wooden fence, and hundreds of thatched shacks are the new camp of the "Red Fox" tribe.
Outside the camp, there were two hundred scout soldiers patrolling. When they saw the Iwekan team coming from afar, they respectfully saluted the red hair. In the camp, more tribal warriors shouted and waved their weapons to maintain the order of the tribe.
Thousands of Otomi civilians, together with an equal number of Guakili tribesmen, were busy working on the fertile soil near the lake. Most of these people have sallow complexions and staggering steps. They do extremely heavy labor but only have very little food. Some people fall to the ground every day. Under the strict requirements of the leader, they had to burn down the trees around the lake, remove stones from the soil, pull out weeds in the fields, and work hard to level the land in preparation for spring plowing.
Iwekan stopped and looked at the tribe in front of him. He didn't care about the piles of corpses in the corner, he only saw a bustling life. The tribe struggled out of the cold wave, just like the grass growing from the cracks in the rocks, full of new hope!
The air near the lake is slightly moist, which makes people feel refreshed. The scout captain took a few deep breaths to calm down his ups and downs, and then took the Otomi prisoners to the longhouse in the center of the tribe.
As the sun set and the moon rose, the bonfire in the longhouse burned all night and was not extinguished until dawn. Early the next morning, more than a dozen groups of envoys left in a hurry to go to the surrounding large tribes. Then day and night alternated, messengers came and went in a hurry, and scouts shuttled like arrows.
As a center for communication among messengers, the chief's longhouse is always lit day and night. Senior warriors continued to hold meetings, and noisy disputes came from the center of the tribe. In the blink of an eye, another ten days passed before the disputes came to an end and everyone reluctantly reached an agreement.
On this day, the canine camp was in a state of excitement. The tribal horns were blown high, and the passionate drums were as fast as the rain. Soon, hundreds of red-haired warriors who were good at fighting quickly left the camp with hunting bows on their backs and five hundred senior tribal warriors. They were like a pack of running coyotes, roaring lowly, and soon blended into the southern mountain forest and disappeared completely.
