Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!
Chapter 983 - 584 Suppression

Chapter 983: Chapter 584 Suppression

The sun hung high in the sky, shedding its scorching light; heads dangled, dripping with beads of blood. Beneath the brilliance and the crimson, more than ten thousand Tlaxcalan captives, anxious and uneasy, were forced to gather at the village center. Sharp spearheads closed in from all directions. Fierce Samurai showed merciless killing intent. Even the moist air seemed to be filled with the scent of death.

"Tlaxcalans! The Divine Power of the Chief Divine is the sun, is the flame, is light! He shines upon everything on earth from the highest cloud! And all resisters, rebels, non-believers, and wicked ones are on a path to death!"

Holding a long spear, Pimeng stood before hundreds of Samurai, facing tens of thousands of fearful civilians. He spoke coldly, in a not-so-fluent Navajo language, hissing each word.

"His Majesty relocates you to the kingdom’s south! There, you will gain new fields, new huts. You will have plenty of food and receive the protection of the Chief Divine! And as long as you dare to fight, bravely kill, even the lowly civilians have the chance to rise as warriors, even become part of the nobility!... Such a bright future is the gift of His Majesty, also the promise of the War God!"

Upon hearing this, the Tlaxcalans fell silent, with complicated expressions on their faces. Most were accustomed to obedience, feared the Mexica’s force, and dared not hope for too much. Likewise, the Mexica’s invocation of the God of Death brought them a lingering reverence.

Yet, when the noble Cloud Serpent Divine Descendant called for a prisoner uprising, quite a number of the young tribesmen, confused, joined in... The divine rules of the nobility lasted so long, how could they be wiped clean in a day?

"His Majesty is so merciful, the Chief Divine so majestic, yet some are so reckless!"

Speaking of this, Pimeng glared angrily. He angrily raised his long spear, pointing at the central wooden pole, and roared.

"Yesterday, a group of captives rioted and fled! Today, their heads are all here! Watch closely!... The supreme His Majesty is the embodiment of the God of Death. If you dare to defy, the only result is death!"

A mountain wind blew, and over a hundred fresh heads swayed on the high wooden poles. Most were filled with fear. Their eyes, fixed and unmoving, stared intently at the equally terrified Tlaxcalan captives.

"Now, I give you a chance! Did anyone participate in yesterday’s riot? Stand forth! In front of the Chief Divine, I will give you an honorable death!"

The icy words echoed in the field. The lively Tlaxcalan captives instantly fell into a deathly silence. Many lowered their heads, not daring to meet the gaze of the Prepecha Warriors around them. The entire center of the square was almost silent enough to hear a pin drop.

"Ha! Is this the cowardice of the Cloud Serpent’s descendants? Ha! Like field rats, only knowing to hide in cracks and shiver!... Pah! What noble Serpent Descendants? Just grass-eating lowly ticks!"

"Ah! Damned!"

Hearing such insults, a young noble warrior could not bear it any longer. He shouted sharply, suddenly stood up, and strode out from the hiding crowd.

"Damned western barbarians! The Cloud Serpent’s descendants are naturally noble breeds! Even if I go to my death, I will make you pay for your insults in blood!"

"Good! Worthy of being the noble breed of Tlaxcala, a true warrior!... Who else? Is this the only warrior among the Tlaxcalans? If you dare not stand forth now, then prepare to be a tiller among the civilians a thousand miles away!"

"Me too! From the noble Sen Aides of Cholula!"

Roused by this, another sturdy man leapt out of the crowd. His movements were agile, and even though barehanded, he carried a forceful aura, clearly a well-trained warrior.

"To make me toil like a civilian for the eternal Aztecs is better to fight to the death here and have my soul return to the Divine Kingdom!"

"Good! Such is the dignity of a dahlia-like warrior! Who else?"

"Me! From Mountain Peak City, noble Flower Python!"

"Me! From Water Valley City, noble Viper!..."

Soon, eight or nine young noble warriors no longer hid their identities, stepping forward from among tens of thousands of young captives. Each of them bore divine blood and had inherent charisma among the noble-believing Tlaxcalans.

"Good, very good! Truly admirable warriors!"

Pimeng nodded continually with respect. He surveyed the thousands of captives, patiently waiting.

"Any more? Any more noble Cloud Serpent descendants, any more true brave warriors?"

The calls that feared not death were always few. Soon, the field fell silent once more. The captives clamped their mouths shut, tense expressions on their faces, watching the dozen noble warriors who had stepped forth, awaiting the spectacular and destined end.

"Then, witnessed by the Chief Divine!"

Pimeng reached out, gripping the Sun Amulet around his neck. His expression solemn, he bowed slightly to the opposite warriors.

"This is a revered battle, a battle offered to the Divine! The souls will go to the Divine Kingdom, death is not the end, glory belongs to those who die in battle!..."

"Give each of them a long spear!... Then, kill them!"

The sacred battle began quickly, fiercely, cruelly, and briefly. The dozen or so Tlaxcalan nobles fought valiantly and roared fiercely, only to be submerged by the forest of spears. In less than a quarter-hour, another dozen or so wooden poles rose, hanging with open-eyed heads.

"This is a sacred battle! The supreme Chief Divine will guide the souls who died in battle, allowing them to enjoy eternal beauty!..."

Pimeng cast down the broken long spear, lifted the blood-dripping hand axe, and prayed loudly. Then he looked at the grim-faced captives, sternly intoning.

"All noble descendants of the Cloud Serpent have courageously stood up and died here! Those remaining are unworthy of being Serpent Descendants!"

"..."

There was no response, no one dared to stand up anymore. At this moment, it was as if a heavy hammer fell, fiercely smashed the captives’ hearts, shattering some final remnants.

Pimeng held the hand axe, gazing around. He sensed the captives’ spirits, feeling that something was still lacking. Lacking what?

"Over ten thousand captives, yet only over a hundred executed... How can the majesty of the Chief Divine be etched into their bones and remembered by all?"

Pimeng’s gaze hardened, and after a brief thought, he announced again.

"The noble warriors who stepped forward just now, came from seven migrating groups, totaling a thousand people!"

With tens of thousands of captives being transported southwards, they would naturally be divided into many teams. These teams were remnants of tribes, family groups, or self-organized entities, ranging from dozens to hundreds.

In this era, with the administrative capabilities of the Tribal Warriors, it was impossible to delve deeply and clarify everything. In fact, even the leaders of these groups might not be entirely clear on their numbers.

"The Alliance has long had a military order: any who hide noble divine descendants and conspire to rebel are to be sacrificed and executed!"

Hearing this, the old face Chiwaco trembled, shuddering all over. He smelled the strong scent of blood, a forewarning of death, so clear.

"Go, Eagles of the Prepetcha! Capture all the able-bodied men from these seven groups, a total of more than a thousand!"

Pimeng’s gaze was icy and firm as he swung his bronze axe forcefully. Red blood beads splattered from the ax blade, piercing into people’s hearts.

"Have them point out and denounce noble breeds among the tens of thousands of captives, expose able-bodied men involved in the rebellion! Denounce one able-bodied man, forfeit one life; expose a noble breed, forfeit ten lives!... When time is up, sacrifice all remaining to the Chief Divine, spare not a single one!"