Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 923 - 534: The King’s Ritual Dance

Chapter 923: Chapter 534: The King’s Ritual Dance

The red sun sinks in the west, dyeing the clouds at the zenith, descending upon a crimson realm. The Samurai gather, kneeling on the blood-stained soil, awaiting the final sacrificial rites. The accompanying Priest plays the clay flute, and the desolate, distant music echoes between heaven and earth. Xiulote solemnly dons the ceremonial dress, chanting clearly and melodiously, guiding his grandfather’s spirit to the Divine Kingdom.

Moments later, the blazing Sacred Fire ignites at the pinnacle of the Great Pyramid. The flames gradually grow fierce, licking at the High Priest’s coffin, and thin blue smoke rises. Dozens of priests sing in unison, praying for the Chief Divine’s guidance and bestowing the blessing of the living.

The Mexica Alliance retains ancient tribal traditions, similar to the Tribes of the Wilderness, venerating holy cremation. The smoke and ash from the burning body signifies the soul’s journey to the Divine Kingdom. Naturally, in this era, due to the lower burning temperature, all cremations leave bones, for the bereaved to lay their grief.

Having finished his prayers, Xiulote stands solemnly before the High Priest’s coffin. He watches his beloved kin slowly vanish in the fire. The fierce flames devour his grandfather’s silver hair, consuming the High Priest’s robe, then everything fades into a blur. His grandfather’s smile silently departs, living on only in his memory...

The King’s calm face reveals intense reluctance and sorrow.

Parting in life and death, life’s inevitabilities, always rend the heart. His heart is suddenly gripped, feeling an unprecedented palpitation and pain. Two streams of clear tears slowly flow from his eyes, soaking his garments. Intense emotions surge in his heart, yet unlike the laughter and shouts he used to express, they are a profound lamentation and yearning. At this moment, he finally accepts his grandfather’s departure, but there are many words yearning to be spoken.

"Thud... thud... thud..."

The forlorn flute sound echoes, like the long wind of the Wilderness, like an ancient call. Xiulote raises the obsidian stone dagger, in front of the burning coffin, in the blood pool of the deceased, dances the funeral sacrificial dance, and sings the plaintive farewell song.

"I see the world as falling leaves, drifting with impermanence, impossible to retain!...

I see love like the morning dew ascending, the moon reflected in water, untouchable!..."

Piercing yearning, bearing long memories, surges onto the King’s heart, moistening his eyes. He gazes at the ascending blue smoke before him, as if watching the departed soul silently ascend to the Nine Heavens. He dances the sacrificial dance, shouting passionately, cries of blood and heartbreak.

"...Time is like water, gone never to return,

the departed are like the wind, turned to smoke in an instant,

a single departure, never to meet again!..."

At this point, the King slightly bows his head, tears streaming non-stop. Hearing the mourning sound, all the generals weep. Black Wolf lies prostrate, wailing loudly without end. Nashu covers her mouth, sobbing softly. Bertade closes his eyes, tears slipping past the corners. Yu Yan sighs with grief, bowing his head tearfully in tribute...

"...Burdened to travel mountain roads, hesitating falls to the valley floor..."

Xiulote’s voice gradually lowers. The path of the King is destined to be both perilous and lonely, can only be climbed alone. He had long understood, but always hoped these days would come a little later...

"...Sitting in the valley, gazing at the sky, stars splendid, wind whispering..."

Drizzling rain falls from the sky, hitting the King’s face, mixing with tears, like blessings from the Divine Kingdom. And the merciless fire burns, a pillar of black smoke rises, connecting with the darkened sky, like a stairway into the netherworld. Amongst water and fire, smoke and cloud, the King raises his head to the sky, dancing the final sacrificial dance, bidding farewell to the departing spirit.

"...Plum rain tears like dew, maple leaves laugh knowing decay.

Cherry blossoms return late, not seeing the other shore call.

Call to the other shore, the sky dark-dark. People restless, insects fly.

Mayflies morning and evening, cicada cries mournfully. Lanterns in the reeds, clouds high on the moon..."

The burning pyre gradually dwindles, nearly burnt out, only a few remnants of bones left. Xiulote steps forward, silently gazing at the last traces left by his grandfather. In his heart, there is endless desolation, with the sorrow of eternal parting intertwined, transforming into a final soft chant.

"...Clouds high and indistinct, moon descends to bury in fire. Childhood dreams warm the heart, seen only again in dreams..."

"Grandfather, I will be well. You in the Divine Kingdom, also must be well... Should you have leisure, come to your grandson’s dreams, once more to meet me..."

Having spoken, Xiulote kneels, respectfully, and bows nine times towards the remains. Then, he carefully collects his grandfather’s remains, placed into an imperishable silver box.

The sunset gradually sets, casting the last faint light through the clouds on the horizon. The King holds the silver box, gazing at the dim dome, then glancing at the largely burnt sanctuary of All Gods, giving a deep and calm order.

"Royal Decree: Imperial Guard Legion, search the entire city. Count the commoners in the city, escort them back to Water Valley City in groups of a hundred! All captured Divine Descendants, Nobility and Sacrifices, sacrifice them all on the spot! Order defectors to bury bodies to prevent plague. Deploy veteran warriors, search Priest Mansion, take the legacy and Divine Objects..."

"The rest of the generals, count the legion, gather the Samurai, set out tomorrow. Within fifty miles outside the city, all villages and townships, burn to the ground! All able-bodied men and women, relocate them! If there is resistance, kill them all!!"

"As you command! Your Highness, your will is the life of mortals!"

All generals prostrate, salute in unity, show utmost respect, not daring to show the slightest disobedience.

Xiulote slightly nods, takes one final look at the burning sanctuary of All Gods. Then, holding the silver box, stepping on the blood-red sunset, descends the towering Great Pyramid, never looking back.

A day later, the Mexica legion moves out in force, conducting a large search of the whole city of Cholula, then splitting forces to spread out, sweeping the entire Cholula region. Soon, columns of black smoke rise under the dim sky, merging into a single line on the horizon. Dozens of villages and towns blaze fiercely, tens of thousands of Telascallan wail, driven by Mexica warriors, migrating fifty miles southwest to Water Valley City.

Black smoke billows into the sky, boundless blood red descends. The Black Wolf’s royal banner moves again, escorted by thousands of the Imperial Guard Legion, returning to the southern stronghold. And behind the southward marching army lies the fiercely burning City of the Gods, the Holy City of Cholula.

"In early June, the High Priest died in the Holy City of Cholula, murdered by the city’s priests. The King, grieving and angry, attacked and destroyed Cholula City, set it ablaze. Slaughtering the Divine Descendant Nobility, warriors, along with militia and able-bodied men, totaling twenty thousand. The bloodlines of twelve priestly families were extinguished. Subsequently, the Southern Army ravaged a fifty-mile radius, capturing the population for half a month, then killed a total of ten thousand nobility, warriors, and militia. Burned the Cholula Federation, and captured able-bodied men and women, totaling one hundred and twenty thousand...

Within half a month, from Cholula Federation’s two hundred thousand populace, thirty thousand were slaughtered, one hundred and twenty thousand captured, leaving only four or five thousand old and weak scattered. The once prosperous and affluent Cholula Federation was emptied, transformed into a desolate, lifeless territory..."

The news of the Holy City of Cholula’s destruction, like a meteor falling from the sky, suddenly strikes beneath the Smoke Peak Divine Mountain, raising a sky full of dust. Countless messengers from various nations run swiftly, carrying terrifying reports, spreading like waves. And all the Nawa Departments upon hearing this are all panic-stricken and terrified! The name of the God of Death spreads across the world, even known eastward to the Rainforest, by the Maya tribes.