Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 882 - 500 The Supreme Glacier Volcano, the Ancient Temple of the God of Death

Chapter 882: Chapter 500 The Supreme Glacier Volcano, the Ancient Temple of the God of Death

The spring wind of April comes from the Caribbean Sea in the east, carrying a moist and warm breath. The season of spring farming is approaching, and in the Mexican Valley, black smoke from burning fields rises everywhere. At this moment, standing high and looking far, everything is in sight. Even outside Water Valley City on the east side of the mountains, one can see the richness and prosperity of the west side of the mountains from afar.

However, the east side of the mountains is full of desolation, filled with deathly stillness and despair. From the northernmost Divine Pass of the Tlaxcala Alliance to the southernmost mountain pass fortresses, over three hundred miles are filled with burning towns, barren fields, fallen corpses, and tribes abandoning everything to flee into the mountains.

The long wind blows, rustling the clothes. The mountain peaks shine, illuminating the vast snowy peaks. At this moment, Xiulote stands on the edge of Popocatépetl, looking up at the 5,400-meter high peak, unable to help but feel awe.

"The height of the smoke peak is like a pillar connecting the Divine Kingdom, straight into the clouds above! And only here, in the entire Mexica Alliance, can one see glaciers!"

Yes, Popocatépetl is also known as the Smoke Peak. It is the second highest peak in Mexico in later generations, and the fifth highest peak in North America, with an altitude of 5,426 meters! The altitude is so high that one can see snow and ice in the tropics and witness the magnificent volcanic glaciers at its top!

Xiulote looked up for a long time, gazing at the towering peak that obscures the sky, marveling at the majesty of natural wonders. The months of hard work seemed to dissipate in an instant, leaving only a sense of vastness and openness.

Yesterday, he led five hundred elite samurai from Water Valley City to the west, traveling thirty miles to the spectacular foot of Popocatépetl. Then, he encamped at the foot of the mountain and spent the night. Early this morning, he left three hundred heavy-armored samurai to guard, taking only two hundred leather-armored trusted aides to climb towards the higher part of the Smoke Peak.

The group climbed for four or five hours, from the 2,000-meter altitude of Water Valley City to the halfway point at 3,500 meters. The valley below was full of spring, while the mountains above were in the grip of winter. Yet, even in the cold here, there were still almost two thousand meters to the glaciers at the top of the Smoke Peak!

"Hoo!..."

Xiulote took a deep breath, feeling the oxygen deprivation and coldness on the mountain. Then, he exhaled slowly, leaving a long trail in the air.

"Bertade, is the death temple of the Tlaxcallans located here?"

"Yes, Your Highness!"

Bertade nodded solemnly, his eyes shining with a peculiar light.

"The god of death and rebirth, the lord of flames and thunder, the oldest temple of the God of Death Xiulotel is not far from here!"

"Excellent! Continue to lead the way! Have the samurai spread out and stay alert!"

Xiulote nodded slightly, his expression serious.

The Eastern expedition has come to an end, and the area around Water Valley City has just been pacified. The Southern Army is organizing outside the city, waiting for follow-up provisions and transporting captured young and strong men. The army is temporarily stationed, giving the king a few days of leisure.

This mountainous area has already been thoroughly cleared several times by the army. Although there are still hidden dangers of Tlaxcala tribes hiding, their numbers are definitely fewer than a hundred, posing no significant risk. At this time, Bertade suggested that Xiulote visit the sacred temple of the God of Death and listen to the old priest’s prophecy.

Hearing this suggestion, Xiulote hesitated a bit, then readily nodded. Because, in Popocatépetl, the temple of the God of Death holds a very special and mysterious position!

The Mexica and the Tlaxcallans share the eastern and western sides of Popocatépetl, almost brothers in bloodline, and their cultures are quite similar. They share many gods, with the most unique being the God of Death, Xiulotel. The origin of the God of Death Xiulotel lies in Popocatépetl! According to the oldest mural records, Xiulotel was not originally a god of death, but an ancient god of the volcano.

Xiulote, who bears the name "God of Death," has a very special feeling towards this oldest temple of the God of Death, as if attracted by something inexplicable.

From a practical perspective, climbing the sacred Smoke Peak, worshipping such a temple, and listening to the prophecy of the priest of the God of Death... these actions can add a more awe-inspiring divinity to his reputation! In the devout belief in gods and the emphasis on omens in the lands of Middle America, such a mysterious divinity can greatly benefit the king’s rule.

Moreover, this death temple holds an extremely sacred position in the hearts of the Tlaxcallans. Perhaps, it can become a key and a bond to win the hearts of the Tlaxcallan tribes.

"Hoo! This faint scent... is it the Stone of the Dead?"

Xiulote walked for a while and then stopped. He sniffed the air around his nose, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, Your Highness, there is a huge Stone of the Dead deposit here. The deposit has bottomless cracks, rumored to be connected to the abyss underground, emitting lots of smoke. And every once in a while, the Smoke Peak will completely erupt! It will spew burning lava and shoot out widespread smoke, connecting the deathly deep underground abyss with the lively present world!..."

At this point, Bertade showed reverence and lowered his voice.

"And the ancient temple of the God of Death is hidden near the Stone of the Dead deposit."

Upon hearing this, Xiulote nodded slowly. Popocatépetl is one of the most active volcanoes in the world, erupting almost every few years. And every half-century, there is a major eruption! In Aztec mythology, the 52-year cycle is actually closely related to the major eruption of Popocatépetl.

The mountain is vast and the woods are dense. At this altitude, the mountains are already full of cold-adapted coniferous forests. And among the large patches of trees, a few yellowish sulfur mines continuously emit the scent of the volcano.

Bertade led dozens of warriors around the sulfur mines, searching for two whole quarters of an hour before his spirits lifted, finding some clues.

"Your Highness, these are traces from the last month, most likely left by the old priests of the temple. They would come here periodically to collect the Stone of the Dead, ignite the sacred blue fire and grey smoke, and offer sacrifices to the God of Death!"

"The Stone of the Dead, burning sacrifices?..."

Upon hearing this, Xiulote furrowed his brows. Burning sulfur every day, inhaling toxic smoke? These priests of the God of Death might not live long.

"...Yes, follow these footprints this way... huh? Why are there a dozen different footprints?"

Upon seeing this, Bertade’s face darkened, and he waved his hand. The two hundred trusted aides gripped their bronze axes, taking down their longbows, and staying cautious. The group cautiously followed the footprints on the ground, walking through the mountain forest for several miles before finding a low, dilapidated temple.

The temple has only two entrances and exits, its area is small and its style extremely ancient, with carvings mottled and old, seemingly having endured hundreds or thousands of years. It is hidden at the top of the mountain, deep in the pine forest, seemingly unwilling to be known and not welcoming outsiders. On the temple’s walls, a row of weathered skulls is densely hung.

Xiulote looked closely and found that the bones of these skulls were somewhat black, resembling marks left after long-term poisoning. He pondered, speculating about the origins of the skulls, but remained uncertain.

"Ooooo... oooo!"

A long wind blew through, passing through the holes in the skulls, bringing a piercing and eerie "ooo" sound. The group, being accustomed to death, paid it no mind but intensified their vigilance.

Bertade, the head warrior, gazed at the temple for a while, then his pupils suddenly contracted. He then drew his bronze sword with a clang, stepping swiftly in front of the prince!

"Your Highness, there is fresh blood! Very fresh!"