Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 714 - 379: Banquet in the Military Camp

Chapter 714: Chapter 379: Banquet in the Military Camp

Moonlight indifferent, the night sky hanging low, large bonfires rose inside and outside the training field, dispelling the shadows of the mountains. The King held a feast in his camp, entertaining the great nobility from the South.

Across the vast training field, fires were scattered. Samurai sat in different small circles according to their units, cooking their usual fare. And at the center, around which everyone was gathered, there was an exceptionally bright bonfire, that of the King and his nobility.

Xiulote sat at the head, surrounded by more than a dozen armored personal guards. Even though it was a night banquet, he hadn’t removed his armor. The nobility sat below him, their escorts all dismissed. And outside the large circle, hundreds of elite warriors stood solemnly, each clad in copper armor, holding long spears, silent and imposing.

"I have returned from my northern campaign and led the army southward, intending to reorganize the South."

The King spoke openly, his gaze sharp as a blade, sweeping over those before him. The place fell silent, with only the King’s words.

"All of you are great nobility from the South of the Kingdom, inherited from the old Tarasco dynasty. You are willing to heed the call and present yourselves before me, which shows you still have some loyalty and reverence in your hearts."

The flickering firelight illuminated the uneasy faces of the nobility. The King smiled faintly, raising his wine cup.

"Since that is the case, I have prepared a feast in the camp to entertain you! Praise the Chief Divine!"

"Praise the Chief Divine! Praise Your Majesty!"

Upon hearing this, the nobility uttered softly, their expressions slightly relaxed, as they echoed with a smile. But when the samurai brought the food and placed it before the nobility, everyone quieted down once again.

The old crow, Xiteli, looked astonished at the clay bowl and cup before him. The bowl contained only two rough corn cakes, a spoonful of stale black bean paste, and a few boiled beans, with not even a slice of meat. The cup held murky fruit wine, which smelled sour, the sort of inferior drink commoners consumed.

"This, this..."

Such fare was scorned even by the personal servants of the great nobility. The last time Xiteli ate such a meal was thirty years ago, when the Tekos Barbarians invaded. He looked towards the King at the head, only to see the King’s expression unchanged, heartily eating his cakes.

Guramo glanced at the food in front of him, his face darkening momentarily before he bowed his head to hide his expression and began to gnaw on the corn cakes. Next to him, Medina, wearing a black robe and a veiled mask, stared blankly at the food. She had just recovered from the terrifying roar of the copper beasts and was very hungry. However, looking at the rough food before her, she felt no desire to eat.

"Medina, you have to dance later."

Guramo gave his daughter a cold look and commanded in a low voice.

"Eat!"

The girl trembled slightly and obediently bowed her head, nibbling on the cooked beans like a well-behaved fawn.

Xiulote swept his gaze over the attendees, pausing slightly here. He had long noticed this veiled woman and could roughly guess Guramo’s intentions, but it mattered little at the moment. After scanning the crowd, he asked with a smile.

"How is it? Not to your taste?"

The old crow, Xiteli, opened his mouth but dared not utter a sound. The other nobles looked at each other and also remained silent. Only Guramo looked up, also smiling in response.

"Your Majesty, though the corn cakes are coarse, they are quite filling. The black bean paste may be old, but is well-preserved. And the beans are cooked thoroughly, posing no risk of poisoning. This food, I have eaten before, it’s the regular meal of a warrior on campaign! Your Majesty treats us with the grace of a warrior, and my heart is overjoyed. Praise the Chief Divine! Praise Your Majesty!"

"Oh? Well said, this is indeed the meal of a warrior on campaign."

Xiulote looked at Guramo with some surprise. The man had a handsome appearance, a calm demeanor, and an air of elegance that earned Xiulote’s favor.

"I campaigned in the north for months, deep into the endless wilderness, where transporting food was extremely difficult. Most times, I ate this kind of meal with my warriors."

Upon hearing this, Guramo’s face showed reverence, and he sincerely praised.

"Your Majesty is invincible in attack and undefeated in battle, revered by warriors and admired by maidens!... Come, let us all raise a toast, to our supreme King!"

With that, he lifted his clay cup and drank the sour fruit wine in one gulp. The surrounding nobility glanced at each other and also raised their cups to toast.

"Praise Your Majesty!"

Xiteli grimaced, suppressing the urge to vomit and managed to down the rice wine. He looked enviously at Guramo and then at the veiled Medina, thinking to himself.

"This man is as slippery as a snake and has such a beautiful daughter. Perhaps in the future, I will need to rely on him..."

"Very good!"

Xiulote nodded and also emptied his drink. Then, he bent down and continued eating the food in his bowl. The nobility relaxed and tried their best to cope with the King’s evening banquet.

Soon, the King finished his dinner, leaving behind a clean, empty bowl. Seeing the King stop, the nobility felt relieved and also ceased eating.

Xiulote pondered for a moment. He glanced at the uneasy nobles and then smiled faintly.

"After the dinner, next is the enjoyment of song and dance. Come, my samurai, dance for me!"

"As you command, Your Majesty!"

A unified shout rose from the surrounding armored warriors, causing the nobles to tremble. Following that, the deep sound of the war drums began to play. Under the lead of the shield guard, Ters, the hundreds of samurai lifted their copper spears and marched to the beat of the drums, dancing with their weapons on the outer circle! Warrior Tupa, clad in heavy armor and with a red pouch tied around his waist, striking his shield, stood in the center of where the nobles were seated and sang out boldly!

"

Ha-hoo! Awooo! Hiss! Ahh!"

Jaguar runs, wolves howl, green snakes dance, bald eagles soar!

The warrior’s heart, has never known any fear!

I raise the blade of obsidian, coming to the battlefield,

I’m eager to fight to the death!

In battle, I seek death eagerly, wanting to sever your head, then rip out my own heart.

Together offered to the most high Chief Divine!

Remember, you must use the blade of obsidian,

I too will use the blade of obsidian!

This is a fight for the Chief Divine,

Let us fight to the death together!

Let us fight to the death together!!..."

This is a war song for the Chief Divine of Mexica, passed down in the Alliance for a long time, usually sung before a great battle. Veteran Mexica warriors are devout in belief, killing like hemp, unafraid of life and death. They grew up in war since childhood, always accompanied by death; when they sing this song, naturally, there’s a breathtaking momentum!

Hearing such a murderous song, Xiteli’s hands and feet trembled, and he felt the urge to urinate once again. He lowered his head, screaming madly inside.

"Damn it! Terrible Mexica barbarians! Terrible barbarians!!"

Beside him, Guramo was fully engrossed, eyes wide, watching this strange song and dance art. The warriors waved their Long Spears, stepping in unison, Armor clanging, their killing intent sprawling. Their movements were hammered out to perfection, simple and forceful, as if genuine combat on the battlefield!

"What an absolutely beautiful art! The art of slaughter! This is the war dance only survivors of a hundred battles could perform!"

Guramo murmured to himself, admiring sincerely. Then, casting a cold look at the trembling Medina next to him, he said.

"Lift your head, look at His Majesty."

Medina bit her lip, raising her head to reveal moist eyes. She looked at His Majesty above, the leader of the warriors, the powerful God of Death, and also the barbaric Barbarian King.

The warriors’ Long Spears danced just two steps away, as if they could stab out at any moment and kill everyone present. The southern Nobility trembled, barely making it to the end of the song and dance. Then, Tupa opened the bag at his waist, took out a bloodstained head, stepped forward, and offered it to the King.

"Your Majesty! This is the head of the hereditary noble Yolodila! Offered to you, my highest sun!"

Xiulote received the head indifferently. He took a glance and nodded. Although Yolodila had been killed by cannon fire, his face still remained largely intact.

"This, is the fate of the traitor! Guards, pass it down, let the Nobility take a good look!"

The fresh head passed through the hands of the nobles in attendance. Everyone’s hearts were filled with fear, and a cowardly noble even fainted on the spot. Xiteli, looking at the terrified expression on Yolodila’s face before death, felt a desolation rising in his heart. He trembled as he passed the head to Guramo, who casually glanced at it before handing it to Medina.

Medina’s limbs shook, her body going limp. At that moment, a deep, cold voice reached her ears.

"Remember, Medina. If you cannot succeed, this will be your fate. And the fate of our family... the Mexica people are so cruel."

Hearing this, the girl bit her lip hard. She passed the head down, looking at the red stain on her hands, her face gradually flushed with a peculiar ruddiness, she managed a seductive smile. At that moment, it was as if a spirit that had been repressed for many years awoke within her.

"I know, Father. I know the fate of Mother."

Guramo paused, shocked. It was the first time in many years Medina had called him father. However, the current situation did not allow for prolonged contemplation. The King’s words arrived once more.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, after enjoying the warriors’ dinner and admiring the warriors’ dance."

Xiulote looked at the fearful expressions of the many Nobility, a smile of satisfaction on his face. He spoke aloud.

"Next, we should talk about the issue of the southern fief."

"Your Majesty."

As the King paused, Guramo suddenly stood up. The warriors on the perimeter immediately pointed their Long Spears towards the Clan Leader of the Zicao. Surrounded by spears, he bowed respectfully and proposed with a smile.

"The warrior’s dance is so magnificent, unforgettable. Your Majesty has treated us with great kindness, and according to ritual, we should also offer something in return."

Following this, Guramo reached out and pulled down the veil of Medina. A face of stunning beauty appeared before everyone. Upon seeing her, the nobles in the room gave a low murmur, their faces filled with admiring awe.

"Rose beauty, the southernmost beautiful girl, Medina!"

At these words, Xiulote’s brow lifted, his gaze fixed on the exquisite girl. Those clear, watery eyes and her turning smile radiated boundless charm.

The King lost his composure for a moment, pondering. He intended to refuse, but when he spoke, he said.

"Alright!"