Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 922 - 533: The King’s Sacrifice

Chapter 922: Chapter 533: The King’s Sacrifice

The noon sun ascended to the zenith, casting down a scorching blaze. The sky was half clear, half cloudy, like death burning with fierce fire. And within the inner city of Cholula, charred and crimson traces were everywhere, as were the corpses of the Divine Descendants and the scattered noble Feather Crowns.

Tens of thousands of Mexica warriors poured into the inner city, cleansing all resistance throughout the night. Xiulote donned armor and helmet, walking along the wide and desolate streets of the inner city, guarded by two hundred Armored Personal Guards, toward the towering Great Pyramid marvel.

On the Avenue of Heaven, he tramped over the bones of the Divine Descendants; before the Temple, the dust of melted gold and silver burned. The King did not glance sideways, marching step by step, over the corpses and blood, through gold, silver, and ash, ascending the nearly sixty meters high Cholula Great Pyramid. Behind him, twenty Jaguar Warriors with bowed heads carried a newly crafted wooden coffin, cautiously climbing to the summit.

On the wide summit of the pyramid, flames still burned. The once magnificent sanctuary of All Gods had been mostly consumed by fire, and the majestic statues of the gods were fragmented and dilapidated. The pavilion’s stone columns tilted and collapsed, gold and silver gems hung in tatters upon the ground, decorated feather tapestries burned to ashes. In the corner of the sanctuary, dozens of Saintess corpses, bearing the marks of elder abuse, were piled to one side, thrown into the fire by warriors one by one.

The pungent smell of burning wafted on the wind, like the elegy of souls. And the glaring bloodstains permeated the summit, resembling sketches of the dead. Amidst the songs and drawings of death were the Divine Descendants of the Holy City, the captured sacrifices, over ten venerated Elder Priests.

"Your Highness! I, Black Wolf Torc, have captured Petl, the priest leader of Cholula City! It was he who plotted against the High Priest!"

Black Wolf Torc’s eyes were red, like a killing hound, swinging his right fist forcefully, fiercely striking Petl’s face.

"Ah! Ooh..."

The noble priest leader’s elegant clothes were tattered, the Feather Crown askew, knocked to the ground with a punch. Writhing in pain, he groaned in distress, like a fox caught by a hunting dog. Blood oozed from his lips, several teeth fell out, and he pleaded miserably and hoarsely.

"I am the noble... divine... priest leader!... I am a descendant of Toltec nobility... do not disgrace me!..."

"Bang!"

Upon hearing this, Black Wolf Torc flew into a rage, delivering another punch that knocked out Petl’s front teeth.

"Pah! How dare you call yourself Toltec, tarnishing my name!..."

Petl’s Feather Crown fell to the ground, revealing disarrayed graying hair. His nose and mouth were skewed, his face bloody, all traces of his usual noble demeanor vanished, as disheveled as a plucked turkey. The priest leader glared venomously at the sturdy Black Wolf Torc, his swollen old face twitching.

"You? You are not the civilized Toltec, but a barbaric Chichimec!... Ah!"

Torc glared wide-eyed, delivering another punch. His roar was like thunder.

"Ha? You shameless old thief! You wretched old dogs! When I caught you, you were still disgracefully reveling, sucking down Divine Smoke on women! Pah, you are the real barbaric Chichimec! No, you are worse than the Chichimec, lacking even the slightest warrior courage, resorting only to poisons and intrigue behind others’ backs!"

"Hah!... Nava gods!..."

Upon hearing, Elder Priest Wezil closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

Of all the Elder Priests, only he wore Leather Armor, fought bravely at the city wall, exhausted and captured. But most of the elders around him were dressed shabbily, even some unclothed, fighting bravely on the bed and caught without resistance. With such behavior, one can hardly blame the Mexica for their disdain. After centuries of hereditary indulgence, corruption had spread from top to root.

Xiulote stood at the summit, carefully placing his grandfather’s coffin at the most sacred altar.

The ancient altar stones were mottled, extending from the Toltec Era, inherited over six centuries, as the foundation of the Nava Faith. Today, this sacred altar shall host the most esteemed sacrifice, offering the last Toltec Divine Descendants to commemorate a laughingly deceased elder.

The sun was fierce, clouds partly shrouded, the sky a changing wonder, the earth a desolate fading. The King removed his face-covering helmet, revealing a cold and hard face akin to a glacier, with still blood-red eyes. He slowly opened the wide coffin, silently watched the reposeful grandfather. Then, he grasped the Obsidian Sacrificial Dagger, stepping before the Cholula priest leader, old fox Petl.

"Xiu... lote! I didn’t, kill your grandfather! Xutel, committed suicide..."

Petl with disheveled hair, blood at the corner of his lips, looked toward the approaching King, filled with bitterness, desperately cried out.

"This is a conspiracy, no, an overt plan! Mexica’s overt plan, causing the High Priest to die here! You, you! So malicious!..."

"Suicide?... You say, grandfather abandoned me, and committed suicide here?... Haha!"

Upon hearing, Xiulote coldly stared at Petl, his lips gradually curved. Then, he burst into laughter, hearty yet mournful, even shedding tears.

"Petl, at this moment, are you still thinking of living?"

"..."

Old fox Petl fell silent. After a while, he stood up arduously, staggered toward the sacred altar, reluctantly demanded.

"No! Let me take a look, just take a look, if you are truly dead!..."

Torc drew his Bronze Axe, reversed the blunt side, about to swing. Xiulote, however, raised his hand to stop him, merely following quietly behind the priest leader.

The elderly priest leader grasped his last thread of hope, looked toward the coffin close at hand. At once, he saw the familiar face with closed eyes and a smile in the coffin. At that instant, a myriad of emotions surged within him, finally manifesting as a grim smile and a lamenting shout.

"Xutel... you are so ruthless!..."

"Petl, before the sacrifice, do you have any last words to leave?"

Xiulote stood next to Petl without expression, adhering to the sacrificial tradition, awaiting final words.

"I..."

Facing death, old fox Petl glanced around, tears trickling from his eyes. Reluctantly bitter and resentful, he raised his head, gazing at the peculiar sky, whispering in despair and plea.

"I want to live, I still want to live another ten years!..."

Xiulote shook his head lightly. He waved his hand forcefully, and five Imperial Guard warriors strode forward. They grabbed the Priest leader’s limbs and head, pinning him onto the Sacrificial Stone on the altar. Then, the King pulled open the old fox’s clothes, aimed at the heart, and raised the dagger with merciless steadiness.

"Wait, wait a minute!"

The old fox, Petl, turned deathly pale. He struggled weakly but was firmly held by the warriors, crying out in vain.

"Your Highness Xiulote! King Aweit promised me! He promised to spare my life!... Ah! Ah..."

Xiulote squinted his eyes and fiercely brought down the dagger. At this moment, his resolve was so steadfast, his hatred so deep, that not even the northern King could stop him!

"Rip..."

Bright red gushed instantly, warm and splattering, even reaching the King’s face, entering his mouth. He lowered his gaze, savoring the sweet taste of revenge, his heart filled with indescribable satisfaction! Then, he raised his left hand, grasped the old and throbbing vibrancy, and forcefully cast it into the fire.

"Ha ha! Hahaha!"

The smell of charring mixed with bloody air rushed in, leaving one in a daze. The King stared at his bright red left hand, gazing at Petl’s suddenly dropped head, and burst into hearty laughter.

"Ha ha! Come, next one!"

The Imperial Guard warriors bowed their heads in salute, dragging the dead Priest leader beside the High Priest’s coffin, positioning him in a kneeling posture. Fresh red quickly spread, soaking the black coffin as if it were a blood ritual. Subsequently, they moved towards the desperately wailing Elder Priests, dragging one out again, just like dragging a turkey to be slaughtered.

"Ah!..."

The dying scream was terrifying and piercing, like a copper pin piercing through a throat, making one’s scalp tingle. But soon, that sound abruptly ceased, leaving only the gurgle of flowing water and the crackle of vibrant flames.

"Ha ha! Good! Next one!..."

The King’s laughter was fierce and joyful. The solid jasper drank blood, becoming ever more dark red and brilliant; the cold glacier, drenched in life, finally began to melt slowly. His eyes red, he kept swinging his arm, bringing down the sacrificial dagger, ending noble lives, savoring the marvel of revenge!

"Again! Next one! Haha!..."

One by one, the esteemed Elder Priests were brought to the altar, in the ancient sacred ground, to meet their destined fate! Whether they pleaded, remained calm, cursed or roared, there was only one outcome, and that was the sacrificial death!

Xiulote no longer questioned, only laughed as he performed the sacred sacrifice. Each time he brought down the dagger, he would glance at the elders’ faces, seeing their shifting expressions freeze and settle, witnessing the true arrival of death’s verdict. He watched as the bodies in front of the coffin grew in number, prostrating beside his grandfather’s remains, bowing in penitence with their lives. And the black coffin had already been stained thoroughly with blood, turning into the darkest crimson...

"Ha ha! Ha ha! Come, only three left!"

Xiulote laughed freely, as if savoring the sweetest spring water. Soon, the elderly Yoluowa knelt before the coffin, followed by the Elder Priest, Queo, brought in from the prison. Lastly, it was the War Elder Wezil. He fought bravely until capture, earning the Mexica warriors’ admiration for his courage, thus he lived till the end.

Seeing familiar acquaintances, Xiulote paused slightly. The redness in his eyes had faded significantly, and his stern face showed slight change. He gazed softly at the calmly awaiting Wezil, asking solemnly.

"Wezil, do you have any last words?"

"..."

Wezil opened his eyes, pursing his lips. With a final hint of hope, he inquired softly.

"Your Highness Xiulote, the city’s twelve Priestly families, the thousands of noble offspring... can their bloodline continue?"

Xiulote was silent for a moment, then shook his head calmly and mercilessly. He spoke lightly, yet it was the final judgment.

"...When the God of Death descends, everything will fall into dead silence. The old ancient tree has completely decayed; it’s time to burn it away."

"...Alas!"

Wezil’s face turned ashen, closing his eyes. Before the sacrificial dagger came down, he opened his mouth one last time, praying quietly.

"Oh Nava Gods high above the clouds!... Ah..."

The prayer abruptly ceased, just like the lifeforce of the Cholula divine descendants, dissipating in the early summer wind. The last Elder’s body was dragged to the front of the coffin, kneeling before the dreaming High Priest. In this sanctuary of all Gods, the twelve Elder Priests finally all took their places, surrounding the dark red coffin, like a confession for the fall of the divine!

"Hahaha! Hahaha! Grandfather, did you see it? I avenged you!"

Xiulote stepped before the coffin, treading the bright red path, laughing aloud! His laughter was like unbridled thunder, echoing throughout the Great Pyramid, reaching the skies above, carrying majestic martial prowess!

At this moment, behind him was the blazing sanctuary, tens of thousands of bowing warriors, and thousands of fallen stiff corpses. Before him was elders’ bones and blood, the High Priest’s corpse and coffin, the cloud-covered sky, the blood-covered earth, and the extraordinary spectacle spanning millennia!

He gazed at the doomsday scene, his eyes gradually clearing, revealing a trace of unquenchable sorrow. And his hands finally turned red, just like his hardened heart! In front of his deceased grandfather, he finally took the last step, severing the ties of youth and childhood, becoming a colder yet stronger King!

Beneath the overcast sky, the High Priest lay quietly inside the coffin. He faced Xiulote, his expression gentle and gratified. Bright red soaked into the coffin, staining his robes, forming mysterious patterns, like final whispers.

"...Xiulote, my child. My life has reached its end... and you are fated to carry on, crowned as king!..."