The afternoon sun penetrates the clouds after the rain and shines on the humid wasteland, evaporating a touch of water vapor. Summers on the northern plateau are always dry, and without the accumulation of plants, the moisture on the soil surface usually cannot be retained for too long. Water is the most precious resource.
Only where streams and springs flowed could crops be grown, tribes fed, and large armies transported. For thousands of years, fighting in the north has always revolved around water. The blood moistens the fertile soil by the river and makes the rare green color more vivid.
Thousands of Mexican legions marched across the dry land, raising clouds of smoke that could be seen from a distance. The high wolf flag fluttered in the center of the military formation, and Shulot wore strong medium armor and moved forward under the escort of the bronze-armored soldiers. He looked around. The faces of the guards were flushed by the sun, and beads of sweat oozed out. He looked behind him. As the army marched, countless drops of sweat fell on the wasteland, and soon evaporated away, leaving only a few white particles.
The army marched tenaciously for many days and covered more than three hundred miles. The scenery along the way was like the same ink painting. The smooth road in the northern wasteland is endless, with only the towering peaks in the east gradually falling behind. Soon, the red sun set low, and today's march came to an end. The warriors found a place to camp by a stream with more plants, and took the time to get water for cooking.
"Bertard, it seems that the biggest difficulty in fighting in this northern land is not the canine descendants, but the long food roads and dry land!"
The king raised the kettle and poured several large mouthfuls of cool salt water. He let out a contented sigh before looking around with emotion.
A shallow stream flows down from the Sierra Madre Mountains in the east, and it flows here with difficulty, finally adding some life to the earth. Around the stream, yucca flowers are in bloom. Tall flower spikes protrude from the sword-shaped leaves, and white flowers bloom brightly on the flower spikes, like white bells. There are a few small dots crawling on the white bell. Shulot stepped forward curiously, but suddenly there was the same white yucca moth, busy pollinating the flowers.
At this time, the sun was setting in the west, and the red sunset dyed half of the sky. The sky is brilliant, the mountains are majestic, the plateau is vast, the fragrance is fragrant, and the flowers are blooming right in front of you!
The king stopped and looked at it quietly for a long time, a feeling of conquest welling up in his heart.
"The plateau is vast and the mountains and rivers are picturesque. This northern land is boundless, but I don't need to build a Great Wall, I just need to hold them all in my hands!"
Hearing the king's declaration, Bertard stood quietly behind his highness without taking off his armor. When His Highness looked at him again, he smiled and spoke, with warning hidden in his words.
"Your Highness, this march is actually not difficult. There are many rivers from the eastern mountains to the west, and the local Otomi guides pointed out the roads and water sources for us. The really difficult march is to cross Pamus State and enter Guaqui The home base of the Li people, the Colavea Wasteland with a radius of two thousand miles! The water sources there are even scarcer, the supplies are even scarcer, and the terrain is complex and there is no guide. Any large-scale march will be a disaster of death!"
Hearing this, Shulot was stunned and sighed slightly.
The Colavea Wilderness is the birthplace of the Guakili people, and further north is the U.S.-Mexico border, New Mexico and Texas.
In Xiulote's vague memory, although Colavea is extremely dry, it is the mining center of Northern Mexico. There are not only large gold and silver deposits there, but also huge open-pit coal mines, as well as open-pit iron mines whose specific locations are unknown. But with the logistical capabilities of this era, it is simply an impossible task to travel two thousand miles north to the wilderness to develop the minerals in Colavea.
"Bertard, I understand what you mean! This land is barren and barren, and it is too far away from the Mexica Alliance. There is no way to occupy it at this time, and it is not worth occupying. The purpose of this northern expedition is to fight the Guakili people , kill and injure their warriors, plunder their nests, and then destroy the tribal alliance that destroys the dog descendants! Large-scale military operations by the coalition will be restricted to the Palms State!"
After marching for more than ten days, the king witnessed the desolation and vastness of the North with his own eyes, and once again clarified the goal of the Northern March. The Northland is infinitely vast and cannot be controlled without fast-moving cavalry. And once they have horses, the canine descendants in the north will become a serious problem for the empire. Everything must be laid out in advance and the pieces must be placed early. In places where the Legion cannot reach, only trade and religion are the keys to checking and balancing the North.
"Have all the captured prisoners been transported to the south?"
Shulot thought for a moment and then asked.
The army has now completely entered the territory of Parmus State, more than three hundred miles away from the mountain city. As the three-pronged legion swept out, good news from the front line continued to come. More than a dozen ordinary tribes of the Guakili people were destroyed by the coalition forces, and more than 15,000 canine tribes were wiped off the map. According to the figures reported by the warriors, more than 3,000 canine warriors were killed, and more than 8,000 young men and women were captured, while the casualties of the coalition forces were only a few hundred.
"Your Highness, the more than 8,000 people captured one after another have been escorted by the Otomi militiamen transporting food, and are concentrated in mountain towns in the south. Then, General Kuruka will arrange the subsequent journey to transport them through Leman River and sent into the hinterland of the kingdom. Finally, Marshal Orosh will personally allocate the canine Dingkou who can farm to the nobles and warriors who have been awarded with military merit according to the roster. "
Bertard explained in detail. Guakili warriors have always been unruly. In the process of attacking the tribe, most of the senior red-haired warriors died in battle or fled. Therefore, most of the Guakili captives are ordinary tribesmen, and their destiny is to become serfs in the kingdom. Only a small number of surrendered Guakili warriors will be absorbed into the kingdom's legion after truly converting to the main god.
In fact, according to the hatred of the Otomi people, almost no one was left alive when fighting against the Guakili canine descendants. However, the king gave a strict order and provided food for the captives, and all the Otomi legions knew the Mexica sacrificial tradition, so they obediently handed over the captives. In order to appease the hearts of the Otomi warriors, Shulot selected the chiefs and leaders of the dog tribe and sacrificed them to the supreme god in front of the generals.
Shulot nodded. He looked not far away, and saw a desolate village located upstream of the stream. It is now dinner time, there is not a trace of smoke in the village, and no one can be seen moving around. Only faint bones are exposed around the village, and Otomi costumes are scattered nearby.
"Along the way, Palms State was completely damaged, and I don't know how many years it will take to recover..."
Bertard shook his head. He had heard the scouts' reports and knew the canine's cruelty. The canine descendants are brave and fierce, respecting the strong, and don't even care about the life and death of the elders and weak members of the tribe. How can they care about the lives of the Otomi people? The remaining population of Parmus State is probably lower than previous estimates.
The two stood by the creek, watching the sunset while discussing the military expedition to the north. In the distance, several scouts were running from the north. They were carrying the green flag representing victory, and obviously there was another good news coming.
August ended in a fight. The three armies were like galloping buffaloes, rushing towards the canine tribe's camp and completely destroying all obstacles.
The roaring rocks falling into the lake always startle a pool of birds. Faced with the threat of survival, the remaining canine tribe finally reacted. They reluctantly abandoned the fields that were about to be harvested, packed up their rudimentary luggage, and fled to the north overnight. However, when all the birds returned to their nests, the waterfowl that had flown away had not yet given up, and gathered around the large tribe one after another, obeying the leader bird's arrangements.
In several fertile lands of Parmus State, the canine descendants gradually gathered in the tens of thousands, forming continuous camps. Each of the eight major tribes gathered vassal tribes and mobilized thousands of warriors. The leaders of various tribes discussed, argued and roared day and night, deciding the future of nearly 100,000 Guakili people!
