The rustling autumn wind blew through the valley, turning the shallow trees in the wilderness yellow, and also brought a chilling chill. The great leader of Chichica died in the battle, and all Guakili tribes lost their will to fight. In the next few days, the Mexican Legion marched all the way, chasing the enemy northward, recruiting surrender and defeat.
Red Monkey Chief Ozoma did not break his promise. He left for only a day before he returned with Red Deer Chief Massat and presented the city of Palms in the center of the valley.
Under the leadership of the two Guakili chiefs, Xiulote led his troops slowly northward, approaching the fertile valleys with a radius of dozens of miles. The Black Wolf's flag was flying high, and thousands of armored warriors had solemn expressions on their faces. The crowd walked through the harvested farmland, past the tribal people who were afraid of lying on the ground, and finally came to a distant and simple small town.
The area of the small town is not small, but it is not a city in the strict sense. To be precise, this place is more like a large tribal camp. It is surrounded by only a low wall as high as a person and a surrounding fence. The low city wall is not completely closed, leaving a large opening on the west side. The opening is adjacent to the meandering river, opening up thousands of acres of farmland. There are no canals in the farmland, and all depends on the mountain streams. At this time, it is full of withered and yellow straw.
"The defenses are rough, the terrain is open, and there is no city wall to rely on. No wonder Chichika clings to the valley entrance..."
Shulot stopped in front of the small town and watched carefully for a while before asking in a deep voice.
"Is this Palm City?"
"Yes, respected Chief Death!"
Ozoma stood beside him with a respectful expression.
"It is the last city in the thousands of miles of wilderness in the North! Further north from here is the Satskas Wasteland where we Guakili people have lived for generations. The wasteland stretches for more than two thousand miles, and it is all semi-tourist. A tribe of hunters and semi-gatherers. To the northeast of the wilderness are the tribes of Coahuík along the Bravo River, to the northwest are the tribes of Concho along the Concho River. Further north, I heard that there are countless hunting tribes, only the elders The wasteland priest can tell you a thing or two..."
Shulot nodded slowly as he listened to Ozoma's story. He looked to the north in silence, where the brown mountains undulated and stretched, and the green cacti seemed to go away until the end of the world.
The Bravo River became the fifth longest river in North America, the Rio Grande. It originates from the mountains of Colorado and has a total length of more than 3,000 kilometers. The upper reaches of the river pass through New Mexico, and the two thousand kilometers downstream are the natural U.S.-Mexico border. Along both sides of the river, there were many hunting-gathering tribes, collectively known as the "southwestern tribes" (the southwest) of North America in later generations.
Among them, the names of many tribes were recorded in history during their resistance to Yankee expansion and have been passed down to later generations. The upper reaches of the river are the Navajo people (Navajo) close to the Great Basin, the brave and warrior Apache tribes (Apache), and the Mescalero people (Mescalero) in the mountain forests; the lower reaches of the river are the Tobozo people who are similar to canine descendants. Toboso people, lipan people on the borders of the Great Plains, and coahuiltec tribes as far down as the Caribbean estuary.
Most of the tribes in the upper reaches of the river make a living by hunting and have always been agile and fierce. The farther you go down the Yangtze River, the higher the proportion of the population engaged in gathering among each tribe. By the time you reach the Caribbean coast, almost all of them are farming tribes, and their temperaments are more docile.
The Concho River in the west of the wilderness is a southwest tributary of the upper reaches of the Rio Grande. There are also tens of thousands of hunting tribes living there. The Opata, the Pima, the Tarahumar, the Jumano, and the Cho tribes that closely followed the eight tribes of Dog. ...
Thinking of this, Shulot lowered his eyes slightly. Too many North American Indian tribes perished under the brutal expansion of the Yankees. Millions of indigenous people were forcibly relocated, exterminated and massacred. They did not even leave any names and were deliberately forgotten by the writers of history. Now that he is here, as the king among the aborigines, he is determined to change everything, no matter how long it takes!
In this era, if you want to cross the endless forests, grasslands and Gobi, and go deep into the wild and wild North American continent, you cannot rely on the difficult land route. There are only three long rivers and smooth roads: the St. Lawrence River and the Great Lakes basin in the north, and the long river in the central and southern Mississippi. river basin, and the long southwestern Rio Grande River basin.
"Only by relying on the three long rivers can we communicate with the various Indian tribes in North America, spread religious beliefs, establish trade routes, and even establish subordinate relationships to resist the colonists who continue to come west. The St. Lawrence River is too far away and the Mississippi River is too difficult. Only the Rio Grande is close at hand.”
Shulot's thoughts flew into the distance, thinking about the distant time and space. If you don't plan for the eternity, you can't plan for a moment; if you don't plan for the overall situation, you can't plan for a region. For this vast continent, he has too many longings, too many plans, too many ambitions...but that will be in the too distant future.
A thousand miles begins with a single step. For now, this short city of Palms will be the furthest point that the Black Wolf King's banner has reached during the Northern Expedition.
Thousands of personal guards entered the city first to set up defenses. Then, Bertard came out of the city, nodded to indicate safety, and then Black Wolf's royal flag moved again.
When Shulot walked into the city, he saw low thatched huts and large shacks. In the corners of the city, there are scattered farmlands and domesticated turkeys. On both sides of the dirt road, thousands of dog tribes were kneeling, welcoming the arrival of the Death Chief. The chief walked until he walked to the center of the small town and saw the first stone building, a small and dilapidated temple.
In front of the temple is a vast square with a newly built wilderness altar in the center. Various red flags were placed under the altar, surrounded by piles of bull head skeletons and abstract and bizarre wood carvings.
"This is the large altar built by the Zuma priest. It was originally used to prepare the sacred wilderness sacrifice to sacrifice all the serfs and captives."
Ozoma always observed the expression of the great chief and explained in a timely manner.
Shulot looked at the shape of the altar and nodded slightly. A few days ago, the scouts had already reported the movements in the city.
"Yes! This altar conforms to the tradition of the wasteland. As long as the symbol of the main god is added, it can be used as an altar for the main god's great sacrifice. Chichika was very busy and not only built the altar for himself, but also saved me a lot of effort. "
The king smiled, then looked around and shouted an order.
"Place the flag of the main god on the altar! Then arrange various 'gems' produced by the kingdom. The war priests prepare the holy fire and blood wine in advance. I want to combine the conversion ceremony with the god sacrifice ceremony!"
"Praise the Lord God! Praise the Chief Priest of the Divine Enlightenment!"
The priests accompanying the army bowed in response and began to prepare immediately. Since the kingdom began to be rich in "gems", the sacrificial rituals have become much simpler. The priests do not need to carry heavy gold and silver ritual vessels, they can simply replace them with hundreds of kilograms of "precious stones". There are too many "gems" fired in the kingdom. The accumulated gems cannot be sold at once, so they are all used in sacrificial ceremonies and noble tombs.
"Where are the serfs and prisoners in the city now? Show me!"
After arranging all this, Shulot looked at Ozoma again. Chief Red Monkey bowed his head in salute and continued to lead the way. Soon, in the corner of the city, a lifeless camp appeared in front of everyone.
"Great Chief, there are about 6,000 serfs and captives from various tribes imprisoned here. They were originally prepared sacrifices, but the tribes did not have time to deal with them when they fled..."
Ozoma pointed to the camp, looking a little nervous and worried.
There were hundreds of canine warriors guarding the outside of the camp. At this moment, they all discarded their weapons and knelt on the ground. Through the fence, Shulot watched the thousands of people in the camp. Each of them looked numb, their clothes were ragged, and they were very thin. The guarding canine leader just shouted a few words, and they knelt on the ground in fear, not daring to look at the armored warriors.
Tens of thousands of Otomi people settled in the valley of Parmus, and now only these six thousand young men and women are left. In the wider wilderness outside the valley, the fields have long been deserted and the villages are all dead.
"We fought for the city and overflowed with people... Palms City has been cleansed."
Shulot shook his head. Almost all the Otomi nobles in the valley are dead, and the remaining ones will be transferred to the area around the Red Fox Valley. The city of Palms will be classified as a territory directly under the kingdom, and the serfs and captives will also be restored to civilians, busy with farming for the kingdom. As for the few Otomi nobles among the captives, the kingdom will partially recognize their identities and then transfer them to other places.
Thinking of this, the king glanced at Ozoma and said in a deep voice.
"I said that the surrendered tribes of Guakili will not be sacrificed."
Hearing this, Ozoma finally breathed a sigh of relief. As long as the kingdom does not liquidate the killings of Guakili's tribes and everyone surrenders, there will be no psychological burden, and it will be the same no matter who they are loyal to. The Southern Confederacy was not only rich and powerful, but also distant. Waiting for the Mexican Legion to move south, the situation in the north is not yet...
"However, the surrendered Guakili tribe will gather southward, cross the river in batches, and move to the hinterland of the kingdom! There is more fertile land there and there are ample water sources. As long as they submit to the kingdom, they are all my people. , I will treat everyone equally!"
The king's words came again. The two Guakili chiefs looked at each other with awe in their hearts.
"Great Chief, our tribes in Guakili have been living in the wilderness for generations. This is our root! Move south to the south of the river..."
Shulot cast a calm gaze, and Ozoma's words stopped abruptly. He looked at the two of them expressionlessly for a while before speaking without any doubt.
"The Guakili tribe must migrate! The faith of the main god must be spread! Go, tell your tribe and be prepared for the conversion ceremony in a few days!"
"...obey your command, my wolf king."
Ozoma lay on the ground for a moment and finally answered softly. Massat's expression changed for a long time, and he kowtowed heavily to the ground.
"You guys go down!"
Shulot waved his hand, and the two chiefs lowered their heads and left. He looked to his side again. The warrior commander looked calm, but he kept holding the battle stick in his right hand.
"Bertard, I will rest in the city tonight. Go and sort out the food in the city, and take out some priests and warriors to appease the serfs and prisoners in the camp. Send an envoy to ask all the leaders in the city to come over one by one. Meet Wang Qi!"
The warrior commander nodded and strode forward to make arrangements. Under the leadership of the two chiefs, the various tribes of Guakili surrendered one after another and camped outside the city of Palmos. At this moment, there are more than 10,000 Southern Alliance troops stationed near the small town, and there are about 20,000 surrendered dog tribes, so they need to be careful.
The setting sun slowly sets, casting its afterglow on the vast land. The Palms Valley is long and narrow, and the distant sounds of fighting still echo at the east and west valley mouths, like the end of the Northern March.
A kestrel spreads its wings and rises above the mountains. It looked at the tribesmen who were fleeing in panic, and then at the warriors who were encircling and chasing them, and then headed toward the northeastern sky without looking back. It knew that there was more food, more tribes, and more rivers flowing into the endless lake.
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