Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 863 - 482: Exploration of the Kingdom of the Lake, Oath of Blood on the Large Ship

Chapter 863: Chapter 482: Exploration of the Kingdom of the Lake, Oath of Blood on the Large Ship

"Smack, smack!"

The incessant pain on his face woke the unconscious warrior. Pikam struggled to open his eyes, his vision showing a large unfamiliar face. He blinked forcefully and saw a peculiar golden amulet hanging from the neck beneath the large face, seeming to resemble the sun and birds.

"Itako!"

Pikam suddenly realized this was the Southern Tribes invading the ancestral land! He let out a roar and reached for the short dagger at his waist, but his arm couldn’t move at all, it had long been firmly bound.

"Ah!"

Startled by the roar, the Huitu Puapu jumped up from the deck. A few breaths later, he snapped out of it. The Huitu samurai, in a rage, extended his arm and slapped him seven or eight times.

"Damn wild man, why are you shouting? How dare you scare me, I’ll beat you to death!"

"Smack! Smack!..."

The crisp slapping sounds echoed on the deck. Chiwaco watched for a moment, squinting his eyes, but said nothing.

"Smack!"

Puapu slapped him over ten times, making Pikam’s vision blur with gold stars, his head dazed. Only then did Puapu stop, calling for Mountain Bird, the translator.

"Wild man, why did you attack us?"

"...?"

Pikam stared blankly, unable to react for a moment. After a while, he glared fiercely at Mountain Bird who spoke the Sri language, spitting out a mouthful of bloody foam.

"Spit! You treacherous mouse, you bring outsiders into the ancestral land! I’ll twist off your head and offer it to the spirit of the ancestors!"

Mountain Bird was speechless, his face turned red. After being stunned for a moment, he lowered his voice and replied.

"I... I’m not a Sri person, I’m a Mayo person!"

"Mayo person? Enemy?! Itako! Kill you all!..."

"Smack!..."

Puapu roared angrily and slapped him another dozen times. Furious, he scolded.

"Ha! You wild man captive, still dare to shout and kill? Watch me cut off your tongue!"

Saying that, the Huitu samurai pulled out the obsidian dagger at his waist with a click and pressed it against the opponent’s mouth.

"Ah!"

Pikam froze, quickly understanding Puapu’s intention. He desperately twisted his tightly bound body like a fish out of water. However, the Huitu samurai’s arm was incredibly strong, directly gripping his neck and forcing him to stick out his tongue. Then, the sharp dagger touched the edge of his tongue, sending a chill to his heart.

"Saate! Saate! No, don’t!"

Pikam let out a desperate scream, his whole body trembling.

He did not fear death, but the thought of becoming mute filled him with uncontrollable dread. The Sri people revered singing, embedding everything about their culture within songs. They used songs to narrate the tribe’s history, heritage, and the divine nature of heaven and earth. Each person could sing hundreds of songs proudly. Losing the ability to sing meant losing communication with ancestors and heaven, bringing scorn from the whole tribe, and even the soul could never return to the ancestral land.

"Old Pu, that’s enough! I still need to question him, don’t actually hurt him."

Chiwaco had been observing coldly. Finally, seeing the deterrence had worked, he stepped forward and signaled the Huitu samurai to stop.

"Hmph! There are so many Sri people on the island, kill him, and we can just capture another one!"

Puapu snorted a couple of times and put away the dagger. He thought for a moment, slapped Pikam twice more, and then swiftly rose and left.

The two had prearranged roles, one playing the villain, the other the good person, to extract some information from the Sri chieftain.

The setting sun cast shimmering reflections; the clouds were splendid, tinged with a faint blush. Half a day had passed since the fierce battle on the water that afternoon. After the chieftain Pikam’s small boat was rammed and overturned, the Sri fleet plunged into chaos. Some small boats rushed forward desperately to rescue the chieftain in the water, while most hesitated and stayed behind, fearful and uncertain. The enemy’s boats became disjointed, lacking numbers to truly threaten the large ships. The Kingdom Fleet pushed forward, raining arrows, finally scattering the Sri fleet completely!

Then, Chiwaco ordered a search and found the unconscious, tattooed warrior, chieftain Pikam, from a Sri small boat.

After a brutal battle, the expedition fleet lost over ten people, while the Sri had hundreds of casualties. Watching the fierce water battle, the warriors on shore shouted furiously, crazy with anger, even shooting arrows onto the sea, but to no avail.

To guard against a night assault by the Sri, Chiwaco did not stay near the shore much longer. He directed the fleet northwest for half a day, temporarily evading the Sri’s sight before dealing with the captives.

"Warrior, you fought bravely to the last moment! The Lake Tribe values warriors highly, and we admire your courage and extend goodwill to you!"

Chiwaco’s old face showed a smile as he approached Pikam. He squatted down and first fed Pikam some honey water.

"Here, drink some honey water. It’s very sweet!"

"...Uh?"

Chieftain Pikam felt a bit dazed. He instinctively opened his mouth, carefully retracting his tongue, and drank several gulps of honey water. The tribal warriors had set off at dawn, traveling for half a day to reach the ancestral Great Island. Then, after fighting fiercely with the invaders all day, he hadn’t eaten anything. Only now, coming to his senses, did he feel extremely hungry and exhausted, completely drained.

"You, Lake Tribe?"

"Yes. We are warriors from the distant south, the Lake Tribe. We have come here without any malice toward your Sri Tribe. We are not enemies. You are not enemies! There’s a misunderstanding between us!"

"No! Taheyoq, Hante, our ancestral land!"

Upon hearing Mountain Bird’s translation, Pikam’s eyes widened. He stared intently at Chiwaco’s face, suppressing a low growl.

"You are invaders! To trespass on the ancestral land and destroy the tribe’s heritage makes you the mortal enemy of all tribes! Leave here, Lake Tribe!"

"..."

Chiwaco scratched his head, finding the situation tricky. His suspicion was confirmed; Tiburon Island was indeed the ancestral land, the sacred island the Sri fought desperately to protect! After a moment, the old militia sighed and tried to smile while replying.

"Calm down, warrior! We are not enemies. We are friends. We will leave soon! We will leave very soon!"

"Not enemies, but friends? You will leave soon?"

Pikam showed skepticism. He looked at Chiwaco’s expression and thought about his situation. The opponent seemed somewhat friendly, stopping the guy who tried to cut his tongue and gave him some honey water, perhaps not deceiving him. He tried to use his brain, speaking loudly.

"Swear it! Use the ancestors to swear!"

"..."

Chiwaco raised an eyebrow, patiently clenching his fist to his chest and solemnly swearing.

"Ancestor witness! Our Kingdom Fleet is not the enemy of the Sri. Soon, we will leave your ancestral land! We have no malice!"

Pikam listened but, without translation, didn’t understand a word. The translator’s words were hard to believe. He bit his lip hard and shouted again.

"Leader of the large ship! I don’t understand your oath. I want to cut my hand and swear with you in blood!"

"What?!"

Chiwaco was stunned by the request. He looked at Mountain Bird, puzzled and asked.

"What does he want to do?"

"Captain, he wants a blood oath with you. Both cut their palms, press them together, let the blood mingle, and repeat the vow. Through the medium of blood, witnessed by ancestors, the pledge binds both sides..."

Mountain Bird blinked and carefully translated.

"...cut palms, press together for the vow?"

Chiwaco’s old face twitched. He looked up at Huitu Puapu.

"Old Pu!"

"Old Chi, why are you looking at me? I won’t do such a thing! Hmph, if it were up to me, I’d just torture him until he said everything!"

"...Ah!"

The old militia sighed helplessly. He thought for a moment and seriously said.

"Ancestor witness! A blood oath requires both sides to make vows for it to be fair! I can swear to leave the island, return you to the tribe, and not be your enemy! But you must also swear!"

"What! You’re willing to swear and return me to the tribe?!"

Upon hearing this, Pikam was stunned, showing surprise. After being captured, he had prepared for death, ready to return his soul to the ancestral land. But now, with hope suddenly emerging, he was caught off guard, his mind loosening. After a while, he stammered a reply.

"Um, well...mutual oath would be fair. So, what do you want me to swear?"

"I want you to swear not to be our enemy and to tell me about the North!"

"Not to be your enemy, and tell about the North?"

Pikam hesitated, thinking seriously for a long time.

They had killed many Sri warriors, even his tribe’s warriors. But they were on the large ship, the tribe’s small boats were no match for them. The tribe needed to hunt and migrate, with not much food reserve. So such large-scale mobilization by the tribes brought great pressure and could not be sustained for long. Once most warriors left, few guards couldn’t defend the Great Island. Overall, if he could make them leave the ancestral land, the sacrifice of a few warriors would be acceptable.

Moreover, being captured, even if returned to the tribe, would tarnish his name. But if he could make them leave, he would be a brave warrior, alone venturing onto the large ship, persuading the fierce enemy tribe, ultimately protecting the sacred ancestral land. This would turn into a celebrated tale, bringing fame within the tribe!

As for the Northern news, he would never divulge information about the Sri tribe. Other details wouldn’t matter much.

Pikam thought for a while and decisively made his decision.

"Alright! Leader of the large ship, I accept!"

"Good! Warrior, good!"

Chiwaco laughed joyfully, his face blooming into a smile. He had Pikam untied and handed him an obsidian dagger. Then, both raised their daggers towards the brilliant sunset, swiftly cutting their palms!