The sun was in the sky, casting a scorching light; the head hung high, dripping with drops of blood. Under the light and blood, more than 10,000 Tlaxcala captives were terrified and forced to gather in the center of the village. The sharp spear points closed from all directions. A powerful warrior with a ruthless killing intent. Even the humid air seemed to be filled with the smell of death.
"People of Tlaxcala! The power of the Lord God is the sun, the fire, and the light! He, in the highest clouds, shines on everything on the earth! And all the resisters, rebels, unbelievers, and evil ones are A dead end!"
Pimon held a spear and stood in front of hundreds of warriors, facing tens of thousands of fearful moth people. He looked cold and stern, and shouted word by word in Nahua language, which was not fluent.
"Your Majesty will move you to the south of the kingdom! There, you will get new fields and new huts. You will have enough food and be blessed by the Lord God! And as long as you dare to fight and fight bravely, the humble moth people will also have The opportunity to be promoted to a warrior, or even become a noble!... Such a bright future is a gift from His Majesty and a promise from the God of War!"
Hearing this, the Tlaxcala people were silent, with complicated expressions on their faces. Most of them were accustomed to obedience, feared the Mexica's force, and did not dare to have too many expectations. Similarly, His Highness Mexica, in the name of the God of Death, also brought them a misty awe.
However, when the noble descendant of the Cloud Snake God called the captives to riot, many young tribesmen still participated in it in a daze... The divine rule of the nobles had lasted for too long, so how could it be wiped out overnight? Clean it?
“Your Majesty is so kind and the Lord God is so majestic, but there are people who don’t know whether to live or die!”
At this point, Pi Meng glared angrily. He raised his spear angrily, pointed at the wooden pole in the center, and roared.
"Yesterday, a group of prisoners rioted and fled! Today, their heads are all here! Give them to me and watch carefully!... Your Majesty, the Supreme Majesty, is the incarnation of the God of Death. If you dare to disobey, you will only die. End!"
A gust of mountain wind blew by, and more than a hundred fresh heads swayed on the tall wooden pole. Most of their faces were full of fear. Their eyes were frozen, staring intently at the equally terrified Tlaxcala captives.
"Now, I give you a chance! Who participated in yesterday's riot? Stand up! In front of the Lord God, I will give him a glorious death!"
The cold words echoed in the field. The noisy Tlaxcala prisoners were suddenly silenced. Many people lowered their heads and did not dare to look at the Prepecha warriors around them. In the center of the entire square, you can almost hear a pin drop.
"Ha! Are the descendants of the Cloud Snake so cowardly? Ha! They are just like grass rats in the mud. They can only hide in the gaps and tremble!... Bah! What kind of noble snake descendants? They just eat grass. Mean Tick!”
"Ah! Damn it!"
Hearing such humiliation, a young noble warrior couldn't bear it anymore. He shouted sharply, stood up suddenly, and strode out from the hidden crowd.
"Damn Western barbarians! Descendants of the Cloud Snake are born noble! Even if I die, I will make you pay the price with blood for your humiliation!"
"Okay! As expected of the Tlaxcala people, he is a true warrior!...Who else? Is this the only warrior among the Tlaxcala people? If you don't dare to stand up now, Then prepare to go thousands of miles away and become a farming moth!"
"And me! Choluraban, the noble anaconda!"
In response to this, another strong man jumped out from the crowd. He moves quickly, and even with his bare hands, he still carries the power of a tiger. He is obviously a well-trained warrior.
"I am like a moth, farming for the Aztecs, my old enemy. Why don't I die here and return to the Kingdom of God!"
"Okay! What a warrior as majestic as a dahlia! Who else?"
"Me! Hilltop City, Noble Flower Python!"
"Me! Shuigu City, Noble Viper!..."
Soon, eight or nine young noble warriors, no longer hiding their identities, walked out from the tens of thousands of young captives. Each of them has divine blood and has a natural appeal among the Tlaxcala people who respect their noble race.
"Okay, very good! What a warrior worthy of admiration!"
Pi Meng nodded with respect. He looked around at the thousands of prisoners and waited patiently.
"Are there any more? Are there any noble descendants of Cloud Snakes, and are there any truly brave warriors?"
Those who are not afraid of the cry of death are always few in number. Soon, the place became quiet again. The prisoners kept their mouths shut and looked nervous, looking at the more than ten noble warriors who stood up, waiting for the gorgeous and destined ending.
"Then, the Lord God witnesses!"
Pimen stretched out his hand and grasped the sun amulet around his neck. He looked serious and bowed slightly to the warrior opposite.
"This is a battle of reverence, a battle dedicated to the gods! The soul goes to the kingdom of God. Death is not the end. The glory belongs to the dead!..."
"Give them each a spear!...Then, kill them!"
The holy battle began soon, fierce, cruel and short. A dozen Tlaxcala nobles fought hard, roared, and were overwhelmed by the forest of spears. But within half a quarter of an hour, more than a dozen wooden poles were erected, hanging heads with open eyes.
"This is a sacred battle! The supreme god will bring back the souls of those who died in battle and let them enjoy happiness forever!..."
Pimon dropped the broken spear, held the bloody hatchet, and prayed loudly. Then, he looked at the gloomy-looking prisoners and shouted in a deep voice.
"All the noble descendants of the Cloud Snakes stood up bravely and died here! And the rest are not worthy of being Snake Descendants anymore!"
"..."
No one responded, no one dared to stand up anymore. At this moment, it was like a heavy hammer fell, hitting the hearts of the prisoners hard, smashing the last remnants of something into pieces.
Pimon held his hatchet and looked around. He felt the energy of the prisoners, and always felt that there was still something missing. What's the difference?
"More than 10,000 prisoners were taken, but more than 100 people were executed... How can the majesty of the Lord God be engraved in the bone marrow and remembered by everyone?"
Pi Meng's eyes sharpened, and after a moment's thought, he pronounced the verdict again.
"The noble warriors who stood up just now come from seven migrating brigades, totaling a thousand people!"
Tens of thousands of prisoners were escorted south, and they were naturally divided into many teams. Some of these teams are tribal remnants, some are in-law groups, and some are spontaneous organizations, ranging in number from dozens to hundreds.
In this era, with the management capabilities of the tribal warriors, it is impossible to go deep and understand everything one by one. In fact, even the leaders of each team may not know how many people there are in each team.
"The Alliance has long had military orders to hide nobles of divine descent and conspire against rebels, and all of them will be sacrificed and executed!"
Hearing this, Chihuaco's face trembled and he trembled all over. He smelled the strong smell of blood, which was a harbinger of death so clearly.
"Go, the eagles of Prepecha! Capture all the men from these seven teams, more than a thousand people!"
Pi Meng's expression was cold and hard, and he swung the copper ax vigorously. Red blood beads splashed from the ax blade and went straight into the heart.
"Let them identify each other, expose the nobles among the tens of thousands of prisoners, expose the young men who participated in the riot! Exposing one young man is worth one life, reporting one noble man is worth ten lives!... When the time is up, the remaining All the people below must be sacrificed to the Lord God, and no one is allowed to be spared!"
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