Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 707 - 373 Military Settlement Camp, Barbarian Soldiers March South

Chapter 707: Chapter 373 Military Settlement Camp, Barbarian Soldiers March South

Golden autumn October, the scent of the harvest came with the north wind, spreading the fragrance of fruits over the fields. The corn in the farmland was fully ripe, and tens of thousands of farmers busily labored, reaping the fruits of a year’s cultivation. Joyful smiles were on their faces.

With ample rain before the autumn harvest, this year’s yields were very good. After paying tribute, there was still enough grain to fill the reserves in the granaries. And once the corn was harvested, they could return home and truly get a good night’s sleep.

The able-bodied men of the military settlements used bronze sickles, which made reaping much faster than in the ordinary villages. No sooner had they finished the busy harvest work, new military orders came from the capital city. The officials of the settlement opened the storage in the camp and distributed the long spears and shields that had been stored for a long time. Soon, they would be moving with their weapons to the southern parts of the Capital Region for stationing.

The scorching sun was like fire, shining down on the military settlement’s campsite in the Lake Region, making people’s faces burn. In the center of the campsite was the drill ground, one side lined with thatched cottages, and the other side housed the armory, granary, and cookhouse. Smoke rose from the cookhouse, wafting the scent of grains. That was the cooks preparing cornbread for the march to come.

At this moment, the old Militia, Chiwaco, sat in front of the empty armory with crossed legs and a stern face. He wore a simple old cloth robe and a broken straw hat to shade from the sun. A sturdy long spear lay at his feet, and he held a tangy, unripe cactus fruit in his hand, taking a bite now and then.

"Ptooey, ptooey, so sour, and it cracks the teeth!"

After two bites, Chiwaco opened his mouth and spat out a bunch of tooth-cracking seeds. Then he cursed out loud, venting his frustrations.

"Ptooey, why the rush? Eat before it’s ripe! Nibble here, nibble there, can’t you just quietly stay and tend your fields? Always making life hectic for everyone. I bet one unripe bite will sour your big teeth!"

The campsite was deserted, with no one to respond. This morning, Chiwaco had distributed weapons for self-defense to his Militia and then had sent them all away with a day off. Those with homes nearby could go back and check on things. Those without homes or with homes too far away would head back to their quarters, cover their heads, and get some proper sleep. The plow soldiers would soon be departing, and there would be no time for rest.

"Uncle, why are you sitting here, what are you doing?"

Weizti, wearing a turban and short clothes, had just come back from a small creek outside the camp. He was still dripping with water, clearly having washed up nicely. The Lake Region in October was still hot, especially around midday when the sun was intense.

"What am I doing? Are you blind, can’t you see?"

Chiwaco cursed irritably. After cursing, he extended his hand and pulled a ripe cactus fruit from his bosom. He tossed the fruit over to Weizti.

"Eat. Just picked from behind the camp."

"Thanks, Uncle!"

Weizti caught it perfectly in his embrace. Then he wiped his hands on his clothes and eagerly brought the fruit to his mouth.

"Crunch, crunch..."

In just a moment, Weizti finished the fruit, with purple-red juice flowing down from the corner of his mouth. He sighed contentedly.

"Uncle, this fruit is so sweet!"

Chiwaco’s eyes widened in surprise as he stared at Weizti.

"You blockhead, you finished it already?"

"Yeah! Sweet, juicy, delicious. Uncle, is there any more?"

Weizti grinned and looked expectantly at his uncle.

"...Where are the seeds you ate?"

Chiwaco stared at Weizti, dumbfounded.

"Seeds? Crushed them, swallowed them!"

Weizti looked back innocently at Chiwaco.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry, see what haste gets you!"

Chiwaco, after being dumbfounded for a while, suddenly exploded in rage. He snatched up the long spear from the ground and, pointing it backward, started to whack Weizti with the spear shaft.

"Uncle, Uncle, don’t hit me, don’t hit. Ouch, it hurts! If you hit too hard, Luwei will be upset!"

Hearing the name Luwei, Chiwaco finally stopped and glared with agitated old eyes.

"Why did I ever think to promise Luwei to you!"

"Hey, hey, on the way here, it was just me and Luwei left!"

Weizti replied with a smile, then moved closer to Chiwaco, face brimming with expectation.

"Uncle, today you distributed weapons to the Militia, and in a few days, we’re heading south. What’s going on?"

"What’s going on?"

Chiwaco gave him a look before letting out a sigh.

"May the Chief Divine protect us, there’s a war coming."

"A war? Who are we fighting against this time? Didn’t His Highness...the King just come back from battling in the north? I heard he captured a lot of Canine Descendants."

Weizti scratched his head as he gazed towards the south.

"Heading south... we’re not going to fight the Tekos barbarians, are we? Those ravines are not easy to fight in!"

"You fool, use your brain!"

Chiwaco cursed in frustration. He was particularly bad-tempered today.

"Who do you think? With the way the plow soldiers are, can they go into the mountains and fight barbarians? Obviously, we’re going to fight the nobility in the south!"

"Ah!"

Weizti gasped, staring at his uncle.

"Uncle, aren’t the southern nobility our own people from the Kingdom? Why are we fighting them?"

"Why?"

Chiwaco shook his head and sighed.

"The nobility from the south, they belong to the old kingdom, not the new one. They are stingy, their tribute for the entire year isn’t even close to what our tens of thousands of ploughmen army contribute. So now, His Majesty has taken draconian measures and wants to pluck them clean."

"What!"

Weizti’s mouth fell open in surprise as he looked at his uncle. But the uncle squatted down in front of the armory, using the cool shade of the building to leisurely munch on a cactus fruit.

Chiwaco had always stayed in the ploughmen’s military camp, looking like an old farmer. But in fact, he had many friends, and was well-connected, with a clear understanding of the kingdom’s situation. Huitu Puapu from the Jingji Legion, who commanded two thousand Samurai under Qinchongcan, often visited him for a drink. The details of the southern campaign had come from the mouth of Puapu.

One night, when Puapu got drunk, he even began to speak incoherently about taboo topics, and Chiwaco scolded him severely, finally bringing him to his senses.

Chiwaco squatted and chewed, Weizti stood and watched, and once again, the camp fell into silence. All they could hear were the sounds of the cookhouse steaming corn cakes and the snoring of the Militia from the nearby barracks. Everything was so peaceful, even the sour cactus fruit seemed delightful.

That is, until a deep horn suddenly sounded from the north of the camp.

"Woo... Woo..."

Chiwaco sprung up from the ground "swish," like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Weizti looked closely to see that, at some unknown moment, his uncle had dropped the fruit and gripped a spear tightly in his hand, displaying a nimbleness that rivaled that of a youngster.

"Eh? Uncle, is that a horn?"

"Shh!"

"Woo... Woo..."

The deep horn sounded again, shaking people’s hearts from afar. Chiwaco dashed to the camp entrance in two strides and quickly climbed up a big tree with ropes hanging down, at least ten meters high, with a wooden platform on top for resting. This was the most convenient watchtower; the height of the tree determined the height of the watchtower.

The old Militia stood on the high platform, embracing the tree trunk with one hand and shielding his eyes with the other. He concentrated and looked out, and soon, at the edge of the sky, a dark line appeared. The line was heading south, growing larger and moving swiftly. Then, he finally saw what the dark line was!

"Damn, it’s the fearsome northern barbarians!"

Chiwaco’s eyes widened in shock, nearly falling from the tree. It was a horde of barbarians, carrying Longbows and Long Spears, with their hair dyed red! Their expressions were ferocious as they rapidly advanced toward the camp!

"Uncle, what do you see?"

Weizti called out, looking up.

Chiwaco didn’t reply. Instead, he stretched out his hand vigorously and rang the alarm bell tied to the tree,

"Ding Ding Ding!... Ding Ding Ding!..."

The piercing alarm bell instantly rang out in the camp, spreading far and wide. Weizti also realized the situation. He quickly ran to the center of the training ground, seized the bronze gong, and began to strike it heavily.

"Bang Bang Bang!... Bang Bang Bang!..."

The once calm camp erupted into chaos, like a pot of boiling porridge. Militia were startled from their sleep, some snapped out of their games, and then hurriedly searched for their weapons. Afterward, squad leaders shouted and scolded, gathering their Militia, arranging crude Spear Formations. And the one who scolded the loudest was the old Militia, who somehow had returned to the center of the training ground.

The chaos lasted a full quarter hour before it subsided slightly. The Militia managed to form a rough battle line, armed with Long Spears, defending behind the camp’s fences. When the large group of red-haired barbarians charged up to the camp, they were met with a roughly shaped forest of Spears.

"Eh? This military encampment reacts swiftly!"

Black Wolf Torc waved his hand, and the red-haired hunters halted on command. He wore the cloak of a legion commander, had a bronze sword at his waist, and a plume from the commander’s helmet stuck into his own. In short, any kingdom officer who saw him would immediately recognize him as one of the five legion commanders.

"Ozoma, how far has the legion marched today?"

"Respected legion commander."

Ozoma bowed his head, speaking deferentially.

"The legion set out at dawn and marched without stopping. Now that noon has passed, we have covered sixty li!"

Black Wolf Torc nodded with satisfaction. A legion of eight thousand, divided into four groups, had marched sixty li in half a day. The pace was indeed astonishing, but such rapid marching was characteristic of the canine descendants.

"Good! We will rest here for half an hour, take in some food and water, and then continue towards the capital city! By this evening, I will report to His Majesty in the capital city!"

"Commander, you are correct!"

Ozoma pondered for a moment, then smiled in agreement. Demonstrating the Guajili Legion’s swift movement capabilities to His Majesty would ensure their greater utility in the upcoming war. Then Ozoma quickly stepped forward, and amidst the wary gaze of the encampment militia, he tossed the token to the leading old militiaman.

"Blessed by the Chief Divine! We are the northern Guajili Legion, our general is the unparalleled Black Wolf General! We are summoned by His Majesty from Rivermouth County to the capital city!... Open the camp gate swiftly, prepare food and water! The warriors will rest briefly and then continue southward! There are three more groups of troops behind us!"

Ozoma bellowed to the thousand-plus militia across from him. This was a novel excitement for him – the feeling of wielding greater martial force and authority.

The Guajili Legion, thousands strong, had been marching quickly; only such a military farming camp could provide ample food and water. Although the canine descendants were accustomed to enduring harsh marches and could subsist on cold food and water, it was still more comfortable to have a warm meal when marching within the kingdom’s heartlands without concern for safety.

"Uh, the northern Guajili Legion? Why are they all barbarians?"

Chiwaco cautiously pinched the token, turning it over and over again for a long time but finding no trace of forgery. Only when the fierce red-haired barbarians showed impatience did he sheepishly ask.

"Respected sir, why are so many fine warriors suddenly moving south? Our camp has received no news..."

"Ha, as if a messenger could outrun us!"

Ozoma snorted with a smirk. Then, with a fierce look, his hand resting on his war club at his waist, he barked out.

"What are you asking so many questions for? Open the camp gate quickly! The Black Wolf General is waiting outside!"

Chiwaco took a cautious look at Black Wolf and shuddered immediately. That proud face had appeared countless times in his dreams, wielding a longbow to shoot people. Without further doubt, he lowered his head and ordered his men to open the camp gate.

The farming troops gathered their long spears and stepped aside to clear a path. The fierce barbarians poured into the camp like a tide. They seized the cookhouse, cursing and helping themselves, snatching up the prepared cornbread to share. Black Wolf General, surrounded by the flattery of red-haired barbarians, indulged in eating and drinking water, laughing heartily.

"..."

Chiwaco pursed his lips and remained silent. He just looked towards the south, shaking his head.

"Oh, you nobles of the south, ferocious barbarians are heading your way! In a moment, your fur will indeed be stripped away!"