Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

Night fell, and a profound darkness surged from the horizon, enveloping the cacti at the foothills. Flecks of crow cries echoed through the rugged mountains, and the simple encampment reflected the everlasting bonfires, imparting a profound desolation.

Ozoma stood alone atop the watchtower of the encampment. The balance in his heart swayed back and forth, just like the flames he saw before him.

"Great Chief!"

The Red Monkey Chieftain sighed deeply.

In recent days, the southern Allied Forces' offensive had been blocked by the forbidding vanguard encampment. Hundreds of Otomi Warriors were lost beneath the valley's camps, and more than a dozen enemy nobility fell!

Chichika Great Chief was quite invigorated, sent an envoy to praise Ozoma, and timely delivered the first batch of a thousand reinforcements. The Great Chief himself convened the valley's tribes, both to gather manpower and to prepare for a grand sacrifice.

According to the plan, all chieftains were to swear their loyalty in blood during the Grand Sacrifice and promise their ancestors to never surrender! The envoy reported that preparations for the blood sacrifice were complete, and the grand ritual would soon take place within the next two days.

"Chichika Great Chief is brave and strong, fair in reward and punishment, and a man of his word. If under the Great Chief's leadership, all tribes unite and hold out, could we defend the valley?"

Ozoma thought for a long time, indecisive. He looked again at the encampment below; the Mexica's catapults were lined up in a row, causing anxiety.

"God of Death is a Chief with profound mana, mysterious and unfathomable. If he summons heavenly fire and emits thunderbolts, could the warriors maintain their morale and hold the encampment?"

The Red Monkey Chieftain thought for another quarter of an hour, still without any decision. He could not help but softly ridicule himself.

"Red Monkey, oh Red Monkey, you've always been sharp, yet when facing life-or-death decisions, your mind wanders, and you are utterly indecisive! Without decisiveness, there is no courage. Your lifetime is nothing but reliance on the powerful."

The watchtower of the encampment was hastily constructed. Although called a tower, it was merely a hut built on a large tree, plus a ten-meter-long rope ladder hanging down to the ground. A gust of autumn wind passed by, the hut atop the watchtower swayed in midair, and Ozoma's body trembled along with it. He lowered his head to view the ground eight or nine meters below and shook his head.

"The hut in mid-air, teetering in the wind, how could it stay any longer in such danger? ...Great Chief, if you had retreated earlier, my loyalty would not waver!"

Having said this, Ozoma descended swiftly down the rope ladder like a nimble monkey, quickly reaching the ground. He jumped twice on the spot, felt the solid touch under his feet, and swiftly returned to the main tent.

The main tent was actually another hut, only more enclosed and slightly larger. The hut had an open roof with a fire pit in the center. The Red Monkey Chieftain, sitting cross-legged in front of the fire pit, continued to contemplate the situation.

The Red Monkey Tribe now had over three thousand warriors, holding the highlands' forward camp at the mouth of the valley, directly facing the Mexica's forces. A few miles behind the forward camp was Red Dog's main camp. Chichika's leader had over four thousand elite warriors and was continuously drafting from the valley's tribes. Further back, near Pamus City, was the rear camp of the Red Crow Tribe. The rear camp had over two thousand gathered warriors from various defeated troops, currently reorganizing.

The highland forward camp, the valley's main camp, and the valley's rear camp depended on each other, forming a neat triangle. Although the Pamus valley mouth was wide open, the forward camp was crucially positioned on the high ground. If the southern Allied Forces did not take down the forward camp, they could not advance peacefully. While the southern Allied Forces besieged the daunting forward camp, the troops from the rear and main camps could continuously strike, attacking the Allied Forces' flanks.

In brief, the valley mouth's defenses were carefully planned by the Great Chief; although appearing rough and simple, they were by no means weak.

"Just placing my Red Monkey Tribe here as a roadblock stone, with no way to retreat! ...No, perhaps not necessarily."

Mulling this over, Ozoma lifted his head and ordered his trusted aide.

"Has Zucata returned? Have him come see me!"

The trusted aide went out to check and returned to report.

"Chieftain, Zucata left this morning to escort the warrior from Red Frog Tribe back south, and he hasn't returned yet."

"Hmm? He hasn't run into an ambush by Amoxtli's raiding team, has he? ...Although Zucata appears simple-minded, he's always been thoughtful and prudent; he shouldn't make such a mistake."

Ozoma frowned and after a brief moment of thought, he called out loudly.

"Summon the scout who patrolled the outskirts today to come see me!"

In less than a half an hour, a red-haired scout hurried over. After Ozoma asked a couple of questions, he stood up abruptly, grabbing the scout's collar in shock.

"What did you say?! Zucata returned and then left the camp to go north!"

"Ah? Chieftain, didn't you know?"

The scout looked at the chieftain in surprise and fear.

"Captain Zucata said he received your instructions to contact the Northern Land's Red Deer Tribe. He even took a few Spear Guards... It was this afternoon, just after Amoxtli Chieftain's raiding team passed by..."

"...Damn it! Bring me the Spear Guard!"

Ozoma's face turned ashen as he pushed the scout away. A foreboding feeling arose in his heart. It seemed as if an invisible giant hand was forcing him to make a decision.

Soon after, the Spear Guard assembled in front of the tent. The Red Monkey Chieftain quickly did a headcount, and several guards from the Divine Eagle Tribe were nowhere to be seen. Upon inquiring with the warriors of the guard, he learned that these men each carried a small bundle, claiming it was a gift for the Red Deer Chieftain, which immediately sank his heart.

"Zucata, Zucata!... I regarded you as a trusted aide, treated you with such respect, yet you betrayed me!"

Ozoma roared inwardly, unable to contain his rage. Silently, he gripped the War Club, his expression as dark as a stormy sky. However, as his anger subsided slightly, a uncontrollable panic surged within him again.

"Where could Zucata be heading? He knows about my covert communications with the Mexica, and he was also summoned by the Great Chief to be at his side. If he reports to the Chichika Great Chief..."

Thinking of the Great Chief's wrath, the Red Monkey Chieftain couldn't help but shiver. Unbeknownst to him, the Great Chief's authority had deeply embedded itself in his heart, indelible.

Ozoma closed his eyes in agony. At that moment, countless thoughts swirled in his mind, and numerous emotions churned in his chest. He was angry, he was afraid, he regretted, he felt lost, he was in pain... He made a decision!

"Like the Wolf King of a Great Chief!... I know, you will never tolerate betrayal... thus, I can only choose to betray..."

After a long while, Ozoma let out a long sigh, and spoke with emotion. Then, as if unburdening himself of the weight of decision, he accessed a long-missed relief. At this point, there was no other path but to seek survival. The Red Monkey Chieftain's thoughts revived, turning him back into the clever Red Monkey.

"Spear Guard, go on alert at the camp entrance! Trusted aide, bring the two baskets I prepared! Yes, the heaviest two."

Ozoma issued the order with a heavy tone. Then, he looked towards the back of the camp, where a tightly guarded enclosed shed was located.

"Bring our guests from the south here!"

The trusted aide obeyed the orders. Not long after, led by two red-haired warriors, Poet Balamo, dressed in traditional attire of the Canine Descendants, came with a solemn expression.

"Ozoma, my distant friend."

Balamo bowed slightly, arms extended, performing a wilderness ritual. Then, he recited a poetic greeting, seemingly unfazed by any discomfort of his confinement.

"In the whispered secrets of dawn, I came with lofty visions. I follow the Chief Divine's guidance, wishing to wander the wilderness with you. In the evening breeze of this valley, filled with the fragrance of promises... The future is so bright, why do you continue to hide, unwilling to meet with me?"

"Uh... haha!"

Looking at Balamo's bright eyes, Ozoma's face twitched, at a loss for words. He forced a laugh, stepped forward, and warmly clasped the poet's arm.

"My friend, the flowers of the cactus must wait to bloom, the fruit needs time to develop. Now, I wish to walk with you in the wilderness as brothers! To show my sincerity and for the brotherhood, I have long prepared gifts for you!"

Saying this, Ozoma waved his hand carefreely. Two aides then strugglingly carried a heavy basket, heavily setting it down in front of the poet.

"I've heard that tribes in the south like this white metal. Haha, my brother, here is a hundred pounds, all yours!"

"A... hundred pounds of silver?!"

Even a worldly person like Balamo was shaken at that moment, his face twitched, his heart shocked. He quickly reached out, grabbed a roughly refined chunk, and bit it, tasting a unique faint sweetness. Despite their crude refining, these chunks were genuine silver.

"Whew... whew!"

After a while, the poet regained his strength and suddenly grabbed Ozoma's hand.

"Ozoma, my good brother! Your sincerity is enough! Let us talk about our bright future!"

"Great! Good brother! I have another basket of white metal, along with red gemstones, as a gift for your highness... "

Watching the poet's reaction, Ozoma inwardly scoffed, yet he also steadied the poet's hand. To think that a mere hundred pounds of useless white metal, which neither can be eaten nor worn, would astonish a Mexica envoy like this. Little did he know, in the lairs of Guajili tribes of Sattescas wilderness, piles of white metal ore were utterly disregarded, forming small hills!

In fact, a vast deposit of silver was located in the Sattescas wilderness. The largest silver mine in the world, Fresnillo, is situated in this area. The Spaniards launched the Chichimec War and fought arduously for fifty years in the wilderness because of this unparalleled silver mining region.

In the four hundred years following its discovery, the Fresnillo silver mine has produced almost ten percent of the world's silver, totaling 100,000 tons. Even up to 2013, this mine still produced more than 700 tons per year, second only to Australia's Cannington Silver Mine. The largest silver mining company in the world is named after Fresnillo. All in all, the silver mines in the Sattescas wilderness were a wealth that could change the flow of global currency and later established the reputation of the Mexican Eagle Dollar!

The campfire flickered, casting dancing reflections on the piled-up silver that shone a mesmerizing white light. Within the luminescent glow, the two men, hands clasped, eyes locked, each bearing the same sincerity and smile. In the bright silver light, they whispered softly, discussing a bright future and influencing the destiny of the Northern Land.