Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

"Amoxtli, have the Cactus Samurai caught up yet?"

The Red Dog Chieftain stood on a hill, his voice cold as he asked. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was filled with a ferocious killing intent, yet he suppressed it to maintain calm. Behind him were hundreds of red-haired Hunters, and a fluttering Red Dog banner.

"Great Chief, we've traveled fifty to sixty miles overnight, all on difficult mountain roads. The Cactus Samurai haven't caught up; they are at least ten miles behind us."

Amoxtli stood behind Chichika, also looking toward the south. In his sight was a scene of retreating chaos. In the narrow mountain path, the Canine Descendants Tribes, in ragged clothes and with incomplete weapons, were jumbled together. Thousands of Tribal Warriors appeared frantic and messy as they sprinted toward the old camps in the north, though they were quite fast.

The rapid march kicked up clouds of dust, startling flocks of birds in the wooded area. Eagles and crows circled and danced, occasionally emitting ominous croaks. In the distance, flags of the Mexica could be vaguely seen. Large groups of figures in grey-blue and dark green swayed among the mountain tops in the horizon, like a crawling giant snake, devouring all the lagging Tribes.

"What's going on with the enemy over there?"

Chichika stood for a moment and pointed toward the far south. The Canine Descendants Tribes stretched for miles in the mountain path, and had not been stable for long when the tail end in the far south suddenly burst into noise and began fighting once again.

Amoxtli narrowed his eyes and, after watching for a while, spoke with certainty.

"Great Chief, it is a small band of enemies in pursuit, hardly a hundred or so. The Cactus Samurai usually wear Armor and carry shields and Greatbows, preventing them from moving that quickly. Judging from their attire, most appear to be the terrain-familiar Otomi dogs, along with some lightly equipped, swiftly moving members of the Red Frog Tribe!"

"The Red Frog Tribe..."

Upon hearing this, Chichika's expression darkened, and his grip tensed. He turned his head, looking at the seriously composed Red Monkey Chieftain.

"Ozoma, you said that night you encountered a night raid, and among the enemies you killed were a dozen or so red-haired, also from the infiltrated Red Frog Tribe?"

"Yes, Chichika Chief. The Red Frog warriors infiltrated the camp, taking advantage of the wildfire to strike, catching us off guard. Even my camp nearly scattered."

Ozoma nodded, still frightened by the memory. Beside him were over a hundred red-haired Hunters and several dozen Spear guards. The mountain path led north without branching. All Tribes retreated day and night, quickly converging together. The Red Deer Tribe ran the fastest and had already escaped back to the valley. The Red Salamander Chieftain disappeared in the chaotic night raid, and both tribes had scattered everywhere.

Chichika sprinted the whole way, raising the Red Dog great banner, gathering the tribes. Now, he held six hundred red-haired, having gathered over two thousand routed soldiers. Ozoma escaped a bit earlier, holding two hundred red-haired, and had gathered around fifteen hundred. Amoxtli, with a few trusted aides, traversed mountains and valleys to rejoin with Alan and others. He was the first to arrive here, holding over a hundred red-haired, now also seizing the opportunity to gather nearly a thousand Tribal Warriors.

"Uman, my warrior!... Roar! Keka! I'll sack you in cloth and have the northern beasts trample you into pulp!!"

Chichika suppressed his rage, growling like a wounded beast. Just two days ago, he had been in command of fifteen thousand troops, the elite from all Tribes. And now, the Red Dog, Red Monkey, and Red Crow combined, they totaled only five thousand warriors!

Seeing the Great Chief's anger, Amoxtli bowed his head, remaining silent. Ozoma arched an eyebrow, silently observing, weighing quietly in his mind.

Chichika roared several times, then ceased his bellowing. He stared at the skirmishing squad in the south, his eyes gradually showing the predatory glare of a hunter.

"Ozoma, Amoxtli, we cannot keep fleeing north!"

Upon hearing this, both men raised their heads, surprisedly looking toward the Great Chief.

Chichika regained his composure.

"It's just a dispersion, not many deaths. Many of the tribespeople are left behind. If we continue north, they will all become captives of the Cactus Tribe! I have already sent Envoys ahead to the valley. All tribes in the valley are urgently preparing, summoning people, and conscripting warriors. We must buy time for the old camps in the valley!"

"Chichika Chieftain, the warriors of various tribes had just gathered not long ago, and morale has severely crumbled, we won't be able to hold out for long..."

Ozoma hesitated.

"No, this time we won't hold out!"

Chichika shook his head.

"Great Chief, are you suggesting, the old method?"

Upon hearing this, Amoxtli's eyes flickered, making a hand gesture of an ambush by scouts.

"Exactly!"

Chichika nodded approvingly. He made a decision and swung his hand forcefully.

"The Cactus Samurai are at the rear, those catching up are all mongrels and traitors! They won't expect the old method, and we have enough redheads in our hands now. Right here, let's have a battle with the pursuing Otomi mongrels!"

The Red Dog Chieftain's expression was resolute, his fighting spirit flaring up like fire. He looked towards the two chieftains and called out loudly.

"The Red Dog main force will retreat while fighting, luring the pursuing mongrels! Ozoma, you lead five hundred elite warriors, take the small mountain path, and hide to the south. When the enemy's main force passes by, you storm out and attack their rear!"

"Amoxtli, take your group of redhead Hunters, lie in ambush in the forests on both sides. When the mongrels' chieftain passes by, lead the Archers to strike and assassinate the enemy chieftain!"

"Once all the ambushers have struck, I will lead the Red Dog Tribe's redheads, turn back and attack, cutting off their dog heads!"

Ozoma and Amoxtli exchanged looks, then each knelt on one knee, respectfully accepting the command.

"As you command, Great Chief!"

The cool breeze swept through the valley, lifting the yellow leaves. The leaves fell, covering the corpses scattered everywhere, and also landed on the blood-stained mountain trails. Along the trails, many captured Guajili Canine Descendants knelt. The Canine Warriors all looked panicked and timid, no longer displaying the fierce bravado they had during their southern invasion.

Under the escort of over a hundred Samurai, Mespa strode forward. He lightly dusted off the yellow leaves that fell on his Cotton Armor, then suddenly kicked a kneeling redhead captive several times. The redhead captive's leg snapped loudly, and he rolled on the ground, wailing.

"Tsk tsk, even the fierce redhead Hunters wail, huh?"

Seeing this, Mespa, usually cautious, finally showed a fulfilled grin. Memories of some Canine Descendants' southern invasion surfaced in his mind, making him feel ashamed yet madly agitated. He abruptly pulled out his War Club, adjusted the sharp blade, and with a swing, chopped down at the wailing captive!

"Ah! Haha! This time, it's your turn to flee!"

Mespa watched the rolling redhead head, as if shattering the nightmares within his heart. He laughed heartily for a long while, then roared at his trusted aide beside him.

"Pick up the pace! The whole army pursue! I want to take the redheads' dog heads!"