Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 885 - 503: Divine Object, Grim Reaper’s Skull

Chapter 885: Chapter 503: Divine Object, Grim Reaper’s Skull

The skull relief is carved in the ancient hall, and the death murals surround the two people in the corner.

Obsidian Samurai falls to the ground, bleeding, and laughing hoarsely. The boy curls up tightly in her arms, staring ahead in fear. Head Warrior strides forward, holding the sharp bronze sword diagonally. A path is opened by many Great Shield warriors, who then follow closely behind.

"Bertade, spare their lives!"

The King shouted, and Head Warrior slowed his steps, turning the edge of his bronze sword to its thick side.

"Hahaha! Mexica, you shall forever be in doubt!"

Obsidian Samurai laughs maniacally, using her uninjured right hand to draw the long dagger from her waist. Then, she lowers her head and softly kisses the boy’s forehead.

The boy looks up, in this temple filled with death, staring blankly at the person he trusts most in his life. He sees the tears in Obsidian Samurai’s eyes and feels the gentle kiss on his forehead.

"White Serpent...sister?"

Upon hearing the boy’s address, an unprecedented smile appears on Obsidian Samurai’s face. She gently embraces the boy, placing the long dagger in her hand lightly against his neck.

"Little Water Serpent, go in peace, carry the glory of the Water Serpent Clan, with everlasting hatred! And your Obsidian Samurai will follow you!"

After speaking, she bites her teeth, grips the long dagger tightly, and slashes down fiercely.

"Ah!...ugh..."

In an instant, the boy’s eyes widen and he convulses in pain. He feels the warmth and life departing, pleading with a final whisper.

"White Serpent... it hurts...ugh!..."

"Little Water Serpent, don’t be afraid, I will accompany you!"

With that, Obsidian Samurai raises the long dagger, without hesitation, aiming it at her heart.

Bertade had already arrived before the two. He stopped his steps, lowered his bronze sword, and watched this scene of the warrior’s suicide, lightly sighing.

"...Skilled archer Obsidian Samurai, do you have any dying poetry you wish to leave for the world?"

"Haha! Poetry? Legacy?..."

Obsidian Samurai filled with hatred, deeply looked at the King, and spoke her final prophecy.

"He shall perish... even the God of Death who governs death, will close his eyes and die... but death is not his end... what awaits him is eternal solitude!"

Upon hearing this, Xiulote trembles all over, his pupils suddenly contracting. He quickly stretches out his hand and screams sharply.

"Stop!..."

"Thud! Ugh!"

Obsidian Samurai exerts sudden force, the sharp obsidian dagger pierces through her heart, causing her to curl up in pain. Blood then gushes out from her chest, falling on the boy’s corpse and blending with the blood pool on the ground. Next, her body leans softly and collapses onto the boy, holding him in death.

Xiulote gazes at the crimson before him, slowly lowering his eyes. At this moment, countless memories flash through his mind. Telascallan Divine Descendants hanging heads, warriors slain in battle, massacred militia and captured women and children, along with the killed Priest, self-sacrificing Obsidian Samurai, and the fallen boy...

After a while, the King sighs deeply, uttering a mysterious inquiry.

"The fall of Zhao to Qin, is it like this?..."

"Ah? Your Highness?"

Nashu blinks, her face displaying confusion.

"Command the warriors to search inside and outside the temple, find the corpse and relics of the God of Death Priest!"

"As you command! But how should we handle these two bodies?"

"...Find a scenic spot near the temple, and bury them together!... Do not erect a tombstone."

"Yes, Your Highness!"

Bertade bows respectfully, immediately going to arrange it.

In the ancient hall, time-honored and desolate, death has long become commonplace. Xiulote takes a few steps forward, arriving before the Black Wolf statue of the God of Death.

Before the statue, there is a divine platform made of green stone, seemingly in the style of the Toltec ancestors, estimated to be at least several hundred years old. And on the platform, a black death skull is worshiped with black pottery ritual vessels. The skull is almost completely weathered, showing strange black and gray marks, and engraved with the wolf emblem of the God of Death.

"Ah! Could this be?... The divine relic from the Temple of Death among the Tlaxcalas, the skull of the mythical Blood Tongue Black Wolf, possessing the divine power of the God of Death?!"

Bertade’s face shows excitement, staring at the ancient skull, as if seeing ancient divine authority.

"Hmm!... It doesn’t matter what it was before."

Xiulote touches the strange skull, feeling the smooth jade-like texture, calmly declares.

"From today, it is the Death God Skull of the Tlaxcalas, and also the Death God Skull of the Mexica!"

Then, the King thinks slightly, issuing a royal decree.

"Bertade, once we return to the camp, hold a sacred ritual! Celebrate that both the Chief Divine and the God of Death have bestowed me the divine object! Let the Tlaxcala captives and surrendered army send representatives to participate in the holy ceremony!"

"As you command! Your Highness is wise!"

The warrior bows deeply, saluting the supreme King, and bowing to the ethereal divinity.

"Nashu..."

Xiulote turns his head again, looking at the close Intelligence Officer.

"Organize my experience of climbing the Divine Mountain, visiting the temple, and obtaining prophecy and divine relic...and then spread it among the Southern Army and occupied towns!"

"Following your will, Your Highness!"

Nashu bows with respect, already prepared. The so-called organization is naturally like epic and myth, endowing it with awe-inspiring divinity to spread among the people. In fact, this is the most important purpose of the King’s ascent to Smoke Peak Divine Mountain!

In this ignorant and wild era, in this world that reveres the divine, the ethereal divinity is an extremely powerful force!

To conquer the tribes of the world, their hearts must be won. And winning hearts is not something simple force can accomplish. It requires oral legends, incredible divine relics, and heart-shaking miracles. The tribes of the world have not long left ancient times, the concept of nations has not yet formed, and ethnic recognition is far from reaching unity. At this time, half of the people’s hearts lie in customs and traditions, the other half in divine gods and relics. Only supreme divinity can unify and resolve the bloody feuds between tribes!

"Hmm. Let it be so!"

Xiulote nods, holding the black jade "Death God Skull", and turns to leave. Once he returns to the camp, he will use this divine relic to create a new divine staff.

Soon, the ancient hall is left with gradually coagulating bloodstains, stained red murals, and the God of Death’s Black Wolf. A cold wind blows, the eerie chime rings again, telling the stories that happened, in the wind of death~

The volcano stands tall, the glacier shines, unchanged for tens of thousands of years. Xiulote stands on the cold mountain, finds a chilly red crystal rock, and sits cross-legged. This is the residue of the volcanic eruption, also hiding the power deep underground.

After a while, Head Warrior rushes over, with a look of regret.

"Your Highness, the corpse of the God of Death Priest has been found."

Xiulote nods slightly, following Head Warrior’s steps, arriving at the pine forest near the temple.

The soft soil has been dug up, revealing a withered, shriveled corpse, and a skin-and-bones old skull. The owner of the corpse died two days ago, yet his appearance is already indistinguishable. Perhaps, his appearance is just like this, just like death.

"Whew!... The prophecy of the God of Death Priest...the God of Death Xiulotel..."

Xiulote silently watches for a moment. A mysterious phrase suddenly emerges in his heart, lingering long.

"...Even if guidance has shattered, please ascend...as the ruler of the world!"