The clouds are shrouded, and there is no sunlight. The bricks and stones in the old small temple are damaged, moss is eroding in the dark places, and blood stains are mottled in the darkness. In several low-lying corners of the temple, thick oil stains and viscous blood stains gathered here, and the rich smell of blood was almost suffocating. Cleanly shaved human bones, broken fingers, and tangled black and red hair, all gathered together like mounds, are “food waste” that is difficult to deal with.
In the center of the temple is a dim temple. The statues of gods in the temple have long disappeared. It seems that everything that happens in the temple is not wanted by the gods. The area where the statue originally stood is the only place in the entire temple that is slightly clean and free of blood stains.
Eagle Warrior Barda had a serious look on his face and deep eyes as he stared at the dead-faced middle-aged prisoner in front of him, Ao Hui, the quartermaster of White Snake City. He waited quietly until Quartermaster Ao Hui spoke slowly, in a low voice, using the same Nahua language, telling the horrifying truth about the city.
". In the name of the festival, the priests select two hundred old and weak human sacrifices each time as sacrifices to the Cloud Snake God. The human sacrifices are decapitated, skinned and deboned, and each person can get three to forty kilograms of meat for a warrior. It can be eaten for one month. As for the offal soup left over from the kitchen, it is divided among the militia to prolong life.”
"There were originally 15,000 people in the city, and food was stored for a year. Three months ago, all the civilians and warriors ran out of food, leaving close to 10,000 people. From then on, a large sacrifice was held every day in the Yun She Temple to share the food sacrifices. . The old and the weak are eaten first, then the women and children. If there is not enough meat, the young and the strong will soon be sent to the militia. There are also family members who commit suicide, so they are dealt with first."
"Just to support two thousand warriors in the city, more than six thousand people were eaten in more than three months. Therefore, respected General Mexica, if you ask me where the thousands of militiamen in the city have gone, I can tell you , they are all here"
Having said this, Quartermaster Ao Hui looked dead, pointed his finger into the dirt behind the small temple, and murmured.
"Their fresh flesh and blood are all in the bellies of the warriors, and the old bones are buried in the deep abyss. Their desperate souls have no one to guide them, and with their dying resentment, they are waiting to become undead."
Hearing this, Barda raised his eyebrows. He looked at the large area of newly plowed soil behind the temple, pondered for a moment, and then ordered dozens of warriors to dig. But after a while, layers of white bones, with the pale whiteness of young people after being boiled, the light yellow color of old people, and the dark red color of unprocessed bones, were exposed in piles in front of everyone, and it was shocking to see them.
The soil was dug up and mounds of bones were revealed. There was deathly silence in the small temple, silence. Barda stared silently for a long time before sighing and turning his head.
"God bless you! Are they all here?"
"Seven to eight thousand ant people are all here. There is no need to go to other places in the city to look for them. The White Snake warriors have already captured everyone."
Quartermaster Ao Hui looked lifeless, his eyes devoid of any emotion or brilliance. He just asked and answered, answering all Barda's questions truthfully.
"Are there no civilians in the entire city who resist?"
"Except for the beginning, when some people jumped from the city to flee. Later, they were all so hungry that they couldn't even pick out much meat, so how could they resist? Besides, this was a sacrifice in the name of the gods. There were more than two thousand people. The warriors suppressed them. But for the civilians who had no food, as long as they were not selected and got a mouthful of broth, they could survive for two days."
"But I went to the palace area and there was still food there."
"It was prepared for the gods, and it was only enough for two hundred people. Even the family warriors couldn't take two bites, let alone the humble ant people."
"With such a shortage of food, the warriors in the city have never thought of rebelling and surrendering?"
"Someone must have thought about it, but"
Quartermaster Ao Hui paused, with complex emotions showing in his eyes for the first time.
"It's just that you, the old enemies of the Mexica, are besieging the city. The priests said that you colluded with the demons in the underground and obtained terrible weapons by sacrificing your souls. If it falls into your hands, not only will you die, but your soul will not be able to go to God." The country will fall into the abyss forever!"
"After all this, you still want to go to the Kingdom of God?"
"...Besieged the city for more than a year, there must be hope. Those who had no hope would have committed suicide long ago and been eaten."
Hearing this, Barda shook his head, and Quartermaster Ao Hui did not speak. Silence fell into the small temple again, the silence before death.
"The Lord God testifies that I have asked you so many questions. Before you die, you are allowed to ask me one question."
There was a complex expression in Barda's eyes. It was a moment of respect given by a traditional eagle warrior before killing his enemy.
"No matter what the question is, I will try my best to answer it and will not hide anything."
"Last question before you die?"
Quartermaster Ao Hui thought for a moment and scratched his head. As a family warrior close to the city lord, he originally wanted to ask about the fate of the city lord Tissart, the treatment of the Cloud Serpent Goddess, and the life and death of the surrendered warriors. But after thinking about it for a while, these practical questions were far away from his mind, leaving only A vague question, like a cloud floating in the sky.
"General Mexica, the Tlaxcala Union, perished in the War of Gods, but the Tlaxcalans are still alive. Many years from now, our descendants will still be enemies of each other just like we are today, Will such a cruel fight end?"
Hearing such a question, Barda was startled, with inexplicable emotions flashing in his eyes. After a moment, he shook his head affirmatively.
"No more. In a few decades, the concept of the Tlaxcalans will disappear. They will integrate into the Mexica people, speak the same words, believe in the only supreme god, and then belong to the same new and Glorious name, descendant of the Jiao people!”
"Oh, that's how it is!"
Quartermaster Ao Hui was stunned, his eyes flashed for a moment, and then returned to the dead black. He was silent for a while and asked in a low voice.
"Then what should we do with the fighting hatred now?"
"Time will erase everything. And today's war will also be erased from history, and will not be seen by future generations. At least, it will not be such a cruel reality."
Barda pursed his lips, thinking of the new epic revised by the High Priests and the assimilation education promoted by His Highness, and replied like this. Then, he lowered his eyes, pulled out the obsidian dagger from his waist, and whispered a reminder.
"By the way, this is the second question, for you."
"Oh, that's right too, okay then!"
Quartermaster Ao Hui nodded, with a slight hint of expectation in his eyes. He groped his chest, unbuttoned his suit, and revealed his slightly beating heart.
"Then, come on!"
"I still have time, so I can wait for you and leave you a poem before I die."
"A poem about death?"
Quartermaster Ao Hui was stunned for a moment and asked in a low voice.
“No need to bother”
"This is the tradition of the Flower War. It's up to you whether you keep it or not. No one will record it anyway."
"Oh, yes! It's the ancient tradition of the Flower War."
Quartermaster Ao Hui thought for a while, raised his head, looked at the dim clouds, thought of the bright sunrise, and whispered.
"I die before the heavy rain comes, washing away the filth of my life, just to take a look at the brightness that is impossible to see. It will come after a long, long time, like the best glow of spring."
"Not bad, are there any more?"
"No. Come on!"
"Um."
Eagle Warrior Barda nodded solemnly. He looked into Quartermaster Ao Hui's eyes, raised his right hand high, and slowly pointed the sharp edge of the dagger at the opponent's heart. Then, he let out a low cry and stabbed out with all his strength, the knife had no handle.
"Go!"
Quartermaster Ao Hui's eyes suddenly shrank and then brightened, as if death had squeezed out the last of his glory. Then, his whole body was shaking violently, his pupils quickly dilated, and his body fell to the ground. Within a moment, he lost all movement and sank into death silently.
"I didn't even scream in the end, so I can be considered a warrior!"
Eagle Warrior Barda was silent for a while, looked at Quartermaster Otto, and nodded. Then, he took out a piece of tissue paper, carefully wrote the other person's death poem, and placed it on his chest.
"Quitz, bury him!"
"Batalion Commander, where are you buried?"
"Not here, anywhere else. Give him a separate grave."
"Yes! I listen to you!"
Pioneer warrior Quetz straightened his chest and respectfully agreed. Barda took one last look at the gloomy little temple and the piles of bones behind the temple, murmured to himself, shook his head and left.
"When I meet His Highness, I have to make a suggestion. This temple should be demolished, and then let the priests of the main god hold a welcoming ceremony to prevent any undead from mythology from actually appearing."
The long wind blew, rolling up the grass paper, unfolding it in the air, floating over the pit full of bones, and drifting into the distance. Scattered raindrops gradually fell from the clouds and wetted the words on the papyrus paper. The heavy rain washes away the filth, and the bright glow will eventually come quietly in the waiting after the rain, bringing new life.
(End of chapter)
