Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 811 - 443: The Death of Guramo, The True Worries

Chapter 811: Chapter 443: The Death of Guramo, The True Worries

"Clang!"

Seeing Guramo’s madness, Bertade’s eyes turned cold. He instantly drew his bronze sword and held it at an angle in front of Xiulote. The sharp copper blade was less than a meter away from Guramo, ready to sever the outstretched arm with a single slash!

"Hehehe... Holy Water, give me Holy Water!"

Guramo seemed oblivious. He stared fixatedly at Xiulote’s royal robe, his pupils dilated, eyes clouded, and muttered lowly with drool dripping from his mouth uncontrollably.

"Hmph?"

Xiulote frowned. He looked at Guramo’s arms, covered in scratch marks. Then he glanced at Guramo’s legs, similarly marked with scratches. Finally, he stared seriously into Guramo’s eyes and asked deliberately.

"Guramo, do you still recognize me?"

"Hehehe... Holy Water, give me Holy Water..."

Hearing the question, Guramo laughed maniacally, his expression growing even more frenzied. Suddenly, he bent over swiftly, using his hands to push off the ground, and with a whooshing sound, lunged toward Xiulote.

"Give me... Give me Holy Water!"

"Die!"

Bertade’s expression was cold and stern as he swung his arm forcefully. The bronze sword slashed down towards Guramo’s head. Bertade, deeply resentful of Guramo’s assassination plot, attacked with such anger that the weapon cut through the air with a whistle, nearly splitting Guramo in two.

"Don’t kill him yet!"

Xiulote stepped back and shouted in a deep voice. Bertade immediately turned his copper sword sideways, using the blunt side to strike down mercilessly at Guramo’s head.

"Bang!"

"Ah..."

Guramo groaned under the heavy blow, stumbled backward, and fell to the ground.

"Your Highness, let me handle this."

Nashu stepped forward swiftly, grasping Guramo’s left arm at the end and twisting it sharply, producing a sickening "crack". Then her right arm followed suit with another...

"Crack!"

Xiulote’s face twitched slightly. Nashu’s movements were so quick and decisive that it was impossible to react in time.

"Ah! Ah!"

With two short but piercing cries, Guramo slumped to the ground, completely incapacitated. He opened his mouth, continuously groaning in pain, and still muttered quietly.

"Holy Water... Holy Water... Give me Holy Water!... Ugh..."

Nashu grabbed Guramo’s chin and observed his sunken eye sockets, bloodshot membranes, and lifeless gaze, then shook her head firmly.

"Your Highness, this person is already ruined. He’s consumed too much special potent Holy Water from the capital city. His soul is like an empty tree hollow, entirely eroded by surging divine power, leaving nothing behind."

"Special potent Holy Water..."

Xiulote furrowed his brow. There were many kinds of potions prepared by the priests, most named after Holy Water. These Holy Waters typically involved special herbs from America that had strong effects on the human nervous system, causing irreversible damage. As for the special potent Holy Water from the capital city... Xiulote shook his head lightly and asked in a deep voice.

"Does he have any remaining sanity?"

Bertade shook his head, indicating he did not know, as knowledge of potions was not his expertise.

Nashu released her grip and observed for a moment, her eyes revealing contemplation.

Guramo, who had seemingly lost all his strength, no longer groaned in pain. He just sat there dumbfounded, giggling foolishly.

"Hehe, hehehe... Holy Water, Holy Water..."

"Your Highness, I can give him a strong dose of medicine."

Nashu thought for a moment, then took out a small clay tube from her bosom. She removed the cotton seal, revealing a mass of grayish-black powder inside.

"This is potent hallucinogenic mushroom powder. Just a tiny bit can cause dizziness, a detached soul, and communication with the divine. If given to him all at once..."

Nashu paused and narrowed her eyes dangerously like a big cat.

"He is sure to have a violent reaction! It might help him regain his sanity briefly but he might not survive..."

"Hmm..."

Xiulote pondered for a while, looking at the foolish and dazed Guramo, and finally made a decision.

"Then give it to him!"

"As you command!"

Nashu extended her hand, about to feed the mushroom powder to Guramo, but suddenly stopped. Then, her expression turned cold, and she raised her arm, delivering two swift and vicious elbow strikes.

"Ha! Ha!"

"Ah!... "

"Crack! Crack!"

Xiulote’s face twitched once more. He watched as Nashu’s elbow strikes, like knives, accurately shattered Guramo’s kneecaps with two precise hits.

"Your Highness, the mushroom powder’s effects will be very strong, we need to take precautions."

Nashu maintained her composure, turned around, and gave Xiulote a gentle smile. Then she pried open Guramo’s mouth and poured the entire tube of the hallucinogenic mushroom powder inside.

"Ah... Ugh... Hehe... Hehehe..."

Guramo sat there, his limbs incapacitated, yet his face bore a joyous smile. Within a few breaths, his smile widened, and his laughter grew stronger.

"Hehehe!"

"Guramo."

Xiulote walked up to Guramo, bent down calmly, and held his face. His gaze was icy as he stared into those eyes that resembled Medina’s.

"Guramo, do you still recognize me?"

"Huff, huff..."

The intense neural stimulation spread throughout Guramo’s body, causing his limbs to tremble. His pupils suddenly constricted, and the muddiness in his eyes gradually faded. He stared at the face before him, and after a moment of meaningless growling, his voice raspy, he replied.

"Huff, huff! ...You are... you are!... Xiu...luo...te!"

Hearing this, Xiulote’s spirits lifted, his hands clenched tightly. His expression changed, and he stared intently into Guramo’s eyes, a killing intent rising in his heart. Those eyes were so familiar, yet so unforgettable.

"Guramo, the Zicao family is completely destroyed... all your sons are dead."

Xiulote declared mercilessly. Aside from the living Guramo, Gillim had also handed over several heads of the younger members to the High Priesthood, now hanging from long poles in front of the Great Temple.

"All... dead?!... Ti..."

Guramo’s pupils contracted in agony, but his lips curled into an uncontrollable smile. The mushroom powder was quickly taking effect, leading him into a boundless ecstatic dream.

"...Ti!... "

Guramo’s shout was hoarse and unclear, as if rusted. Xiulote lowered his eyes and sighed softly.

"Medina, your daughter, is also dead... She died in front of me, buried by my own hands."

A few steps away, Nashu perked up her ears, listening to everything, blinking like a rabbit.

"...Ti! ...Sha...tini..."

Guramo suddenly went wild, shouting hoarsely. In that deep shout were two unexpected names.

"Shatini! Gillim!..."

"Huh?!"

Xiulote’s whole body shook. He repeated Guramo’s words, his expression instantly becoming grave.

"Shatini? Gillim? Prince of Tarasco, Chief Intelligence Officer?!"

"Two kings... hahaha! Hahaha!"

Guramo laughed manically, flailing his arms and legs like a mantis, completely ignoring the pain in his limbs.

"Kill kill kill... hahaha! Hahaha!"

"Guramo, tell me!"

Xiulote’s eyes glinted with cold light. He grabbed Guramo’s collar and shouted sternly.

"Who else is behind your assassination plot?!..."

"All dead... hahaha! Hahaha!"

Under the intense neural stimulation, Guramo’s pupils dilated, and his eyes turned cloudy again. He laughed joyfully from the bottom of his heart, a deep, hearty laugh that squeezed laughter out of his lungs, even bringing tears to his eyes.

"The Zicao family, all wiped out!! Hahahaha! Hahahaha!!"

"Guramo!"

"Hahahaha!"

"Your Highness, the mushroom powder has taken effect."

Nashu took two steps forward, looking at the completely deranged Clan Leader of Zicao, and spoke in a low voice.

"With so much mushroom powder, he won’t wake up again..."

"Hahahaha!"

The maddening laughter echoed throughout the prison like metal scraping on stone, sharp and bone-chilling.

A dozen paces away, Chief Priest Yao Ke was also alarmed. He quickly approached the stone bars with several guards and glanced inside.

"Chief Supreme High Priest? What’s..."

Xiulote lowered his eyes and shook his head silently. He watched the madly laughing Guramo for a moment before calmly speaking.

"Chief Priest Yao Ke, if we lack one divine descendant sacrifice for the sacrificial rite..."

"Oh!"

Chief Priest Yao Ke looked at the stone bars and nodded in understanding.

"Chief Supreme High Priest, it doesn’t matter."

"Hmm."

Xiulote nodded. He calmly drew the obsidian dagger from his waist and walked over to the hysterically laughing Guramo. Then, with one hand, he lifted the emaciated Guramo off the ground and pinned him against the stone wall.

"Hahahaha!..."

"Farewell, Guramo."

Xiulote looked into those familiar, clouded eyes and whispered softly. Then, without mercy, he thrust the sharp dagger in his hand, accurately piercing Guramo’s heart and twisted it fiercely.

"Haha... Ugh!!... Huff huff..."

With excruciating pain in his chest, Guramo convulsed like a dying snake, struggling for several breaths against the wall. In his final moments, he regained consciousness one last time. He took a deep look at the King before him, eyes full of inexpressible regret, with a strange smile on his face. Then he slumped down, limbs hanging lifeless, completely still.

"Medina... your wish, I’ve fulfilled it!"

Xiulote closed his eyes, murmured softly, and savored the relief and joy that came with revenge! A smile spread across his lips as he recalled that gentle and enchanting kiss...

Then, he thought about Guramo’s words, new doubts arising in his mind.

"Conspiracy to assassinate... Prince Shatini... Intelligence Officer Gillim... Kill kill kill..."

As a king who cuts through thorns and briars, these obstructing names could not move him, nor could they worry him. The only one who could truly make him feel uneasy, make him feel concerned, was one person... Someone he had once depended on, willing to trust, even offer loyalty to.

"Could there still be... King Aweit?"

The young king stood facing the wall, deep in thought. The others bowed their heads in waiting, standing respectfully. The dim dungeon was silent and solemn. Only the steady flow of blood seeped from Guramo’s fallen corpse. Through the faint light of the torches, his frozen face could be seen, still bearing a smile.