Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

On the way to the King's tent, Xiulote looked up at the sky. The deep sky, high clouds, no longer warm sunlight, carried a cold wind.

"It is already the end of December, and soon it will be the ominous final days of the year," Xiulote thought.

Inside the tent, the King still sat high upon his throne, appearing like a deity, with his eyes half-closed, his demeanor unflappable. Today's meeting, the War Priests had not attended. To the right of the tent stood the Central Army Commander, draped in a Sun Stone cloak, and to the left were the Legion Commanders of the City-States, each adorned in different cloaks, head crowned with feather crowns.

Xiulote saw his father too standing at the front left of the tent, his face a mix of resolve and worry. It wasn't until he saw the two who entered that Xiuxoke smiled joyfully, exchanged a glance with Xiulote, and then nodded to Aweit beside him.

Following that, Xiulote moved to stand beside Aweit to the right. He looked around, most generals in the tent were anxious, the familiar leaders couldn't help whispering among themselves, momentarily creating a somewhat restless and uneasy atmosphere.

A moment later, once the Commanders and the heads of all the battalions had arrived, Tizoc opened his eyes and scanned the room with a piercing gaze, gradually silencing the noises until there was complete quiet.

Xiulote recalled past scenes of the King holding court, observing people's expressions and the silence. It seemed that the King's prestige had declined.

"I have called you here for two reasons," Tizoc addressed the City-State Legion Commanders, "first, to understand the casualties of the various legions, and second, to discuss our next steps. How are your casualties?"

The generals reported the losses of their warriors in turn, cursing the cunning of the Otomi people and simultaneously complaining about the insufficiency of provisions, hoping the King would distribute another batch.

Xiulote saw Tizoc's brow furrow slightly.

The siege had already lasted over three months, and the casualties during this period were indeed much higher than anticipated. The rainy season's inhospitable conditions, coupled with guerrilla warfare in the mountains and forests, had resulted in over six hundred dead from disease, more than four hundred killed in action among the fifty thousand Mexica warriors, nearly two thousand more suffering from illness and injuries, and even twenty of the elite Nobility Jaguar warriors had perished.

Over three months, and the elite warriors had suffered casualties numbering three thousand. Xiulote was surprised by this figure. The fifty thousand Otomi Warriors alone would hardly have inflicted such losses on the army.

From this, it was evident that logistics and environment sometimes dealt more damage to an army than large-scale battles.

The Commanders were indifferent to the militia, so there was no precise tally of their losses. Xiulote only knew that the camp and rear-guard militias had also lost three to four thousand men, mostly among those tasked with maintaining the mountain forest transport. Half of them died due to the harsh conditions of the jungle during the rainy season, and the other half fell to guerrilla attacks by Otomi squads.

Tizoc's frown deepened.

"What are the Otomi casualties?" the King asked Totec.

Totec hesitated briefly, then stepped forward and declared, "We have found over two thousand five hundred bodies of Otomi Militia, and as for the warriors... less than a hundred bodies."

A commotion spread throughout the tent. The Otomi Militia had inflicted casualty ratios of two to one, or even three to one against the Mexica warriors, an utterly unacceptable figure. It seemed the Otomi had finally found a way to counter the Mexica warriors, Xiulote thought.

The King struggled to calm his emotions and commanded silence from the generals in the tent.

Then, Tizoc asked Aweit in earnest, "Where did these Otomi come from? And how many are left?"

"The militia came from Guamare and Pamus, while the warriors, in addition to these locations, included a small part from more distant western or northern City-States," Aweit replied gravely, "The number of warriors is estimated to be over a thousand, and the militia is countless, as these villages can still mobilize tens of thousands more."

Hearing the number of tens of thousands, the generals once again grew noisy. Everyone clamored for a chance to crush the Otomi. Xiulote listened for a while, noting that no one yet suggested a retreat. The perceived weakness of the Otomi in direct combat gave everyone a false sense of a victory within reach.

Even the King found it difficult to quiet the clamor in the tent this time, and he seemed disinclined to try.

Tizoc waved Totec forward, and the two of them whispered briefly. Then, Xiulote saw Totec's face harden, he nodded firmly, his eyes shone coldly, and then he struck his chest hard with his left arm as a sign of commitment.

After a long while, the tent finally quieted down. Tizoc nodded, and Totec walked to the center, stood behind a chest-high stone platform, and announced the King's decision to the generals.

"The King has decided to deploy two auxiliary forces to campaign against the Guamare and Pamus City-States. One force will be directly under the Royal Family, the other given to the City-State Alliance. Each force will dispatch eight thousand warriors, with at least a thousand Jaguar or Eagle Warrior Battalion members, all disguised in regular warrior attire."

"Each force will additionally carry two thousand village warriors to transport provisions and spoils of war, prioritizing food among the spoils." Totec's gaze focused on the faces of the city-state leaders, fierce until each leader nodded in agreement.

"There are three objectives for this military campaign. First, to march directy to Guamare and Pamus City, demanding the city-states to submit tribute and sever alliances with the people of Otapan, and to withdraw the harassing militias. We demand their withdrawal primarily; the tributes are negotiable."

"Second, if Guamare and Pamus are unwilling to withdraw their reinforcements, or to sever alliances, then our detached force will feign weakness to lure them out for battle."

"Thirdly, if the Otomi people still cling to their burrows like rats," Totec paused, scanned his generals once more, then removed the obsidian war club from his back, "Macuahuitl," and then he raised it with both hands, muscles bulging, and forcefully swung it downward.

Xiulote heard a loud boom as the stone platform in front of Totec suddenly exploded into fragments, dust rising into the air, shattered by a single strike.

The generals were shocked, looking at Totec with eyes filled with fear and obedience.

The dust clouded the form of the supreme commander. Xiulote couldn't see his reddened eyes, but heard his biting voice distinctly enunciate, "Let the samurai obliterate all the villages, burn everything! Do not spare men, women, children, or elderly; this battle will not take prisoners, not a single person shall be left alive!"

The generals looked at each other, speechless for a moment, then thunderously agreed, their intent to kill boiling over.

Xiulote was horrified in his heart, as if seeing boundless blood rushing towards him.

Since arriving in this world, Xiulote had found that, despite bloodthirsty sacrificial rites, the Aztec military never engaged in senseless killing.

The Mexica samurai only captured sacrifices they could take away, then release the old, infirm, and non-threatening young to allow the villages to continue thriving and propagating.

This was like Jaguars hunting; they only capture food necessary for survival and don't needlessly kill for amusement like domestic cats. That would be a waste of sacrifices.

The promotion of samurai also follows this rule, counting only the number of living warriors captured and opposing mere slaughter.

Theologically, sacrifices are owned by the gods. Only lives offered in sacrificial rites could satisfy the gods' demands. The world needs a continuous flow of sacrifices as fuel to maintain the movement of the sun.

The Mexica samurai needed villages to continue thriving, needing a continual flow of sacrifices, it's a realistic jungle law, where sacrifices are the food for survival. Unlike the armies of the Ming Dynasty, they do not massacre villages for wealth, avoiding the pressures of civil officials and leaving behind no survivors.

On the other hand, sacrifices also have different levels. Sacrifices from divine descendants please the gods most, followed by the blood of nobility, ordinary warriors are acceptable, while lowly militia are just trivial additions.

This was also why Xilotepec City would rather give up all its wealth than open its gates: offering three hundred noble divine descendants was far more valuable than three thousand commoners.

Until now, the wars Xiulote experienced were low-intensity tributary wars, not like the brutal wars of cultural conquest seen during the rise of Yuan and Qing dynasties.

He was already capable of facing war, yet he was not ready to face true brutality.

But now, due to the threat to the supply line, the great army faced an existential crisis. The Mexica warriors, like hornets poked in their nest, burst out fiercely. They had to discard the principle of capturing sacrifices and adopt the cat's utter brutality to confront the mice's attacks.

The generals dispersed from the tent, rallying elite warriors, shouldering gleaming war clubs, and taking enough obsidian blades for the fight.

Xiulote was somewhat dazed. He was led forward by Aweit, his steps unsteady. In his daze, he saw his father striding towards him.

Then, Xiuxoke hugged Xiulote tightly, and then lowered his head to his ear, "Xiulote, I know you have always been soft-hearted, but being soft-hearted is pointless, my son. You must embody the strength of a samurai!"

"Life is merely a blossoming flower; all things will silently perish, and you will always witness bloodshed. The blood of commoners, blood of warriors, blood of nobility, blood of priests, even my blood, and your own!"

"Samurai, are calm, considering death as their return journey," after saying this, Xiuxoke lowered his head, kissed his son's forehead tenderly. Then another tight hug followed, before he turned and left. Nearby, Olosh looked at Xiulote worriedly but also turned and left.

Finally, only Aweit remained; he glanced at Xiulote sideways, smiled faintly, and continued to stride forward, half-dragging the young man with him.