Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

The sea breeze blew through the camp, the air was full of moisture. Alan sat in the tent, her eyes on the map, but her thoughts flew afar. She straightened up and touched the obsidian dagger at her waist, for the first time learning to think like a chieftain.

"Father, this time the tribe's migration northwards has been entrusted to me, and I shall do a good job! You must help me relocate the tribe quickly in time for this year's spring plowing. The lowland seaside is very warm, we can still farm even if we push it to late May or early June. We can delay planting a bit, but try to cultivate more land to harvest more food in the fall."

"That's right, we must hasten the migration northwards and try to cultivate as much farmland as possible! I've already selected the first batch for the migration north, all from loyal and compliant tribes. Tonight, I will gather the chieftains of each tribe and urge them to head north."

Amoxtli smiled and nodded in agreement. He looked at Alan, patiently listening to his daughter's thoughts, and also offered some suggestions.

"Of course, my daughter, to firmly grasp these migrating tribes, you must have a reliable tribal force! I will give you five hundred Red Crow soldiers, five hundred from the Long Spear Camp, and recruit a thousand tribal warriors from various tribes. And you must learn to win the hearts of the people, let the warriors hold you in awe, make them obey your commands. Alan, do you know how to do it?"

"Hmm... make the warriors awe-inspired, obey orders..."

Alan tilted her head and blinked. She thought hard for a while, and her eyes suddenly brightened.

"Father, I know what to do! I will organize an archery contest, let the warriors among these two thousand come and duel with me one by one. Then, as their leader, I will shoot them down, make them submit. This way, they will instill fear in their hearts and dare not disobey!"

"...Uh...shoot down all the warriors..."

Upon hearing this, Amoxtli froze for a moment and twitched the red hair on his head. In the tribe's archery contest, there was indeed a segment for duels. Both hunters would carry hunting bows, standing dozens of steps apart, then they would shoot at each other with blunt wooden arrows dipped in red dye. During the duel, both parties could run and dodge, shooting many arrows, but being hit even once would mean failure.

This kind of duel actually resembles actual combat, very much reflecting the archer's combat prowess. However, although the duel uses wooden arrows, it is still fierce, with a potential risk of injury.

Amoxtli pondered for a moment, then taught solemnly.

"Alan, defeating the warriors of various tribes is indeed a way to subdue the people. Yet this method is not very common. After all, not every leader has your excellent archery skills...like me, your father, I cannot defeat all the warriors. But they still loyally follow me, obey my commands, and are willing to fight for me. Do you know why?"

"Hmm...the reason..."

Alan blinked her eyes, thought for a long time, and then uncertainly answered.

"That's because, Father, you brought the tribe down from the wilderness. And with Father, everyone's life has improved?"

"Haha! This is indeed an important reason. A competent leader must bring benefits to the tribe, keeping the warriors hopeful!"

Amoxtli nodded with a smile, the corners of his mouth curved upward. After a few moments, he scowled and spoke seriously.

"Alan, my daughter. Our Wilderness Tribe does not rely on invisible and untouchable divinity to earn the tribe's trust, but relies on tangible and visible things. A competent wilderness chieftain must possess a certain degree of strength himself. Whether in archery, javelin, or axe and spear, he must at least master one to gain the trust of ordinary warriors. But for a large tribe, the more warriors there are, the less important personal force becomes for a chieftain."

"Father, then what is truly important?"

"Most importantly, make the right decisions to capture the hearts of the tribespeople and warriors."

At this point, Amoxtli paused, tilting his head and saying nothing. He recalled the methods used by Chichika the Great Chief to win over the warriors, as well as his collaboration with Zuma the Priest using divination to influence the warriors. Lastly, it was his leadership in the tribe's eastward migration, genuinely considering each tribe, gradually gaining support from everyone. After a while, he spoke again.

"Alan, the source of people's hearts can be many. Outstanding strength can evoke awe among the tribespeople. Acting with both kindness and might as a leader can make warriors obedient. And praying, divining in the name of ancestors, showcasing spells can also be effective. But fundamentally, it is about making the right choices that benefit the tribe!"

"Hmm...the right choices, beneficial to the tribe?"

Alan intertwined her fingers, supporting her chin, contemplating her father's teachings. Amoxtli patiently waited for a while before speaking earnestly.

"The right choices mean the interests of the tribe. As a chieftain, you need to provide tangible benefits to those who support you! We migrated eastward, escaping the conquest of the God of Death Great Chief, which benefited the tribe. We conquered the Vastek people, the tribe rapidly grew, no longer lacking in food, land, and population. These are also tangible benefits."

"It is precisely because of these decisions, which have benefited the tribes, that I have gained the prestige of the Great Chief, and the warriors sincerely obey. This time, our move north, I have spread the threat from the west and south, also to make the chieftains feel that moving north is most advantageous!"

Amoxtli raised his head and gazed into Alan's eyes, earnestly explaining the key points of leading the tribes. These were experiences he had personally gained, perhaps rough, but most suitable for the current situation of the Wilderness Tribes.

"Alan, my daughter, a person cannot fight the tide, nor should they stand in front of charging buffalo. Instead, you should ride a small boat, moving forward with the tide. Avoid the buffalo, follow their footprints. The so-called tides and buffalo are the momentum and interests!"

"Ride the tide, chase the buffalo?"

Alan pressed her lips together, her thoughts growing increasingly thoughtful. She brushed her short hair and gripped the dagger at her waist. She turned to gaze south, the direction of the Aztecs. According to her father's explanation, the tribe's northward migration was to avoid the tide from the south... She gazed at the distant south for a while before asking softly.

"Father, can I ride the buffalo, blow the horn, and stir up high tides?"

"Hmm? Ride the buffalo, stir up tides?"

Hearing such words, Amoxtli was stunned. He widened his eyes and carefully looked at the daughter he had personally raised. Alan straightened her spine, with a resolute and bright gaze, similarly watching him. After several breaths, Amoxtli suddenly laughed happily.

"Alan, I am glad you have such aspirations! However, to control the momentum, you must have sufficient strength to gradually stir up the waves. Gigantic buffalo thunder across the wilderness, kicking up a vast sky of dust. As long as they do not stop, no one can block them. Our Red Crow Tribe will be like buffalo, continually moving forward, continually growing stronger..."

"And if one day, you can sit atop a four-legged giant beast, blow the horn, and command the thousands of tribes in the Northern Land, then you will be able to stir high tides and surge towards the homeland in the south!"

At this moment, Alan's eyes were like the brightest stars in the night sky. Her silent face, for the first time, showed the solemnity and dignity of a chieftain. A moment later, she nodded gently.

"I will, Father."

The tent remained quiet, with a faint fragrance of herbs wafting through. Amoxtli brewed some herbal tea, handing a cup to Alan. The father and daughter drank tea, discussing the specifics of the northward migration. After a round of discussions, Alan summarized.

"Father, give me another batch of farming tools, some elderly farmers skilled in agriculture, plus the Chief God Priest sent by the Alliance who knows farming. This season's planting must ensure that the migrating tribes achieve a good harvest. This way, subsequent tribes moving north will face much less resistance. And after the autumn harvest, I plan to lead two thousand warriors, recruit two to three thousand militia, circle the periphery of the Lake Region,and summon the various tribes along the way."

"Hmm, not bad. When a jaguar arrives in new territory, it must roam around, letting the surrounding birds and beasts know."

Amoxtli expressed agreement. In fact, if it weren't for him needing to stay in the south and constantly watch the situation of Otter City and the Mexica army, the autumn patrol should have been done by him. But if his daughter Alan could take up the task, he would gladly let go.

After all, in the vast northern wilderness, and even on the larger plains further north, matriarchal clans still exist. Many tribespeople only know their mothers and do not know who their fathers are. An outstanding female leader can actually gain more support than a male leader and often lives longer. Of course, this premise is without a husband sharing power by her side.

Thinking of this, Amoxtli touched his forehead, feeling inexplicably irritated. He lowered his eyes, pondered for a while, then looked at Alan and asked.

"Alan, you are not too young anymore. After this year, you will be twenty years old! Many girls in the tribe your age have already given birth to two children... Ah! Alan, my daughter, what kind of husband do you want?"

"..."

Alan lowered her head, her face steady, without speaking.

"Ah! Every time I ask you, it's like this, silent and saying nothing. Although I don't want you to marry either, daughters must marry someday."

Amoxtli sighed. He tugged at his hair, gritted his teeth, and asked in a somber voice.

"The warriors of the Red Crow Tribe all want to marry you. Several of the Divine Descendants of the Vastec people, who are quite good-looking, have also come to propose. The chieftains of the Bosalos people have said you can choose anyone. According to their tradition, a female chieftain can have several men. Oh, and Zucata of the Long Spear Camp has asked several times for Chipawa."

"Alan, my daughter, of so many men in the tribe, who do you fancy? Tell me. Tonight I will arrange for him to be sent to your tent!"