Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 906 - 522 The Family’s Divine Tree

Chapter 906: Chapter 522 The Family’s Divine Tree

The sun rises and sets, and in the blink of an eye, it is dusk again. It’s a clear evening, the glow of the sunset coming from the western horizon. It dyes the clouds as if set on fire, illuminating the majestic Great Temple, and radiating brilliance across the sky.

At a glance, the sky is crimson, the sunset is golden-red, and the top of the Great Temple is blood red. This red kingdom reflects in the eyes, like the arrival of the Divine Kingdom!

The High Priest Xutel wore black ceremonial dress, a feathered stone crown on his head, an obsidian necklace around his neck, jaguar skin boots on his feet, and an emerald Divine Staff in his hand. His expression was solemn, he silently gazed at the sunset on the horizon for a while, then step by step, walked down the towering Great Pyramid.

After the Great Pyramid was expanded, it reached nearly seventy meters high, with six layers inside and out. The new sixth layer was built with green bricks, reinforced with mortar, and the foundation was additionally expanded. It took five years just to build this extra layer, consuming more than ten thousand captives in total.

The sunset shone on his face, bringing a departing warmth. The High Priest meticulously, step by step, slowly descended the Divine Platform. Then he slightly turned, still walking with steady steps, into the not far away Chief Palace. The fiery sunset disappeared behind him, enveloping black shadows in his front. He passed through the corridor of shadows, ascended the rising stairs, walked through the Divine corridor, and finally arrived at the topmost Chief Great Hall.

The Elder was clad in ceremonial robes, holding a Divine Staff, sitting quietly on the cold stone seat. He calmly watched the doorway, the sunset appearing once again behind him, dyeing his silver hair with a faint blush.

The High Priest paused slightly, startled in his heart. It had been a long time since he had seen the Elder rise. An inexplicable foreboding rose in his heart, turning into a shadow of inauspiciousness. However, his expression did not change, he merely lowered his head, knelt on one knee, and saluted the Elder.

"Honorable Elder, descendant of Acamapichtli, Xutel, greets you!"

"Hmm, Xutel, there is no need for such formality."

The Elder’s face remained expressionless, nodding lightly. He slightly raised his hand and said calmly in a low voice.

"Come, sit by my side."

Upon hearing this, the High Priest raised his eyebrows. He stood up, paused for a few moments, and then slowly walked forward. Shadow Cevali had already moved a stone chair to the opposite side of the Elder. The High Priest nodded slightly, then sat down gracefully. The two then sat facing each other, no more than two steps apart.

"Since the eastern campaign, how are the logistics on the northern and southern routes?"

"Honorable Elder, the northern and southern logistics routes are still sustainable."

The High Priest pondered slightly, then answered in a deep voice.

"Over a hundred thousand troops on the eastern campaign, the logistics mainly come from the Capital City. Three years after the western campaign ended, there was no flooding in the Alliance, with continuous tributes from various states, and the warehouses slightly stocked... The northern logistics route totals over two hundred miles, with a loss rate of one or two out of ten when reaching the frontline. The southern logistics route totals four hundred miles, with a loss rate of two or three out of ten when reaching the frontline. The Alliance’s city-states all support the effort, with grain supplies from the Vastec Alliance and the Kingdom of the Lake... Holding on until the October harvest should not be a problem."

"And after the harvest?"

"After the harvest, we will need to reduce the army, withdraw half of the corps, lessening the burden on the frontline. As for whether the southern vassals will pay tribute after this year’s harvest, it is still unknown."

"Hmm."

The Elder slightly nodded, pondering for a moment. Then he continued to ask.

"Since the eastern campaign began, how is the situation in the Lake Capital City?"

"Honorable Elder, the Lake Capital City is as stable as the mountains."

The High Priest appeared confident, responding calmly.

"The Capital City has four thousand Royal Warriors, plus two thousand Temple Guards and a thousand Elder Guards. The Capital City’s nobility, priests, and commoners all support the eastern campaign, praying day and night without negligence. After the completion of the Great Temple, there is no need for external timber and stone supplies. The High Priesthood has issued religious laws, controlling the trading groups in the Capital City, capturing dozens of spies, and confiscating the merchants’ properties... Since the eastern campaign began, everything on the northern and southern routes has gone smoothly, and the city is as stable as the mountains."

"Hmm. Very good!"

The Elder rarely smiled. He extended his withered old hand, gently patting the High Priest’s shoulder. Then he lowered his eyes, saying without any emotional fluctuation.

"Xutel, last night, I suddenly had a dream."

"Elder?"

The High Priest was startled, looking at the Elder’s face, but all he saw was a placid surface.

"... What kind of dream?"

The Mexica people highly value omens, believing that they can reveal destiny. And dreams are the most common form of omen.

"... It was a very dark night, I heard my brother’s call, and walked into a very deep forest."

The Elder’s expression was calm, carrying a hint of nostalgia, as he described his dream. A smile gradually appeared on his lips.

"In the depths of the forest, there was a towering Divine Tree. I came beneath the Divine Tree, looking up in the direction of the voice... and saw my brother’s body standing on the high branches. He was smiling, calling to me."

The Elder’s brother... the predecessor monarch Montezuma...

The High Priest pursed his lips, patiently listening. The shadow in his heart was gradually growing, devouring the light of life.

"He said... ’Trakel Er, Trakel Er!’"

The Elder’s full name was Trakel Er. And ’Telelel’ was his nickname. Since the predecessor monarch Montezuma’s death, this name had never been called again.

At this moment, the smile on the Elder’s face was more pronounced, even somewhat strange. His eyes appeared a bit cloudy, his expression somewhat dazed, like an aged child softly whispering his nickname. A burst of inexplicable warmth surged in his heart. And such an emotion, he had not felt for many years.