NOVPUBThe rain drizzled, and the shouts shook the heavens. The water gate of the Rivermouth fortress, like a hive of wasps, still relentlessly spewed forth large and small boats, and in the blink of an eye, nearly a hundred vessels appeared.
Upon the gorgeous large boat, the round-faced noble Ospe grinned, revealing the excitement of a hunter. He pointed with his Spear Flag and bellowed.
"Speed up the charge, capture that tall warrior with the longbow! The captor will be rewarded with five chests of copper, and their rank will be raised by half a grade!"
Hearing the command, the paddlers on the large boat’s faces turned red as they rowed with all their might. The large boat picked up speed once more, surging forth like a pouncing crocodile. Ahead, a pack of more than ten small boats, like wolves, had already pounced on the edge of the Mexica skiffs.
On the Mexica skiff, the trusted aides rowed fiercely, and the slender canoe gradually sped up. Bertade quickly moved to the bow, protecting His Highness behind him. Then, he stood tall, took his war club from behind his back, and unblinkingly fixed his gaze on the three Tarasco skiffs that had closed to within five meters.
On the nearest skiff, a Tarasco captain stood at the front, his face breaking into a grin at the thought of capturing wealth. He held a three-meter-long copper spear high with both hands, and as the skiff drew close, he stabbed downwards with all his might, aiming straight for the tall warrior’s chest.
It was hard to dodge on the cramped boat. The Head Warrior’s eyes blazed as he instantly struck out with his war club in his right hand, accurately hitting the wooden shaft and deflecting the incoming copper spear to the left. Then, he reached out with his left hand, as quick as lightning, and grabbed the deviated shaft, before letting out a mighty roar, and forcefully pulling it.
"Come!"
The two small boats, mere meters apart, shook violently at the same time. The Tarasco captain found himself without a weapon, his balance off-kilter. Next, as he stumbled, an irresistible force hit him, accompanied by a soul-shaking bellow at his ear. His spirit jolted, and he was pulled into the water, the raging river hitting him square in the face. Before he could release his grip, the copper spear dragged him towards the edge of the Mexica skiff. In his panic, he looked up to find himself in the last moment of life, only to see a heavy war club coming down on his head, followed by a burst of severe pain and the sound of bones "cracking."
Bertade crushed the enemy’s neck with his club in the water, then raised his hand and hurled the war club forward viciously. With a "bang," a Tarasco warrior fell backward face-up. Then, the Head Warrior gripped the three-meter-long spear with both hands and thrust it swiftly forward. The spear pierced through the left chest, straight into the heart, instantly killing another enemy who was poised to attack.
Bertade yanked back his spear, the blood spurting, staining the golden tip. He slightly sidestepped, evading the incoming copper spear, allowing it to tear a gash into his high-quality leather armor. Next, he thrust his own weapon at the enemy’s chin, then sliced with precision. That warrior instantly went limp, his long spear clattering to the deck as he fell overboard, hand to his throat, his blood quickly dispersing in the turbulent water.
In mere moments, four warriors lay dead, and the enemy on the first boat had lost their nerve. The remaining two warriors hastily turned to retreat, urging the paddler to depart with frantic shouts. Bertade stabbed again, plunging deeply into the back of the closest warrior. With a muffled cry of agony, the warrior fell forward with the long spear still embedded in him, the weapon stuck in his ribs, unable to be drawn out. The Head Warrior frowned slightly, then let go with both hands and stooped to pick up the backup war club on the skiff.
The paddler bent low to row, and the first skiff escaped quickly. The last Tarasco warrior fell back seated in the boat, gasping raggedly as he looked at his fallen comrades before him, heartsick. When he looked toward the Mexica skiff again, he saw the second and third Tarasco skiffs already speeding up, charging towards the boat full of "wealth."
The two skiffs collided with force, the canoe shaking violently, the Mexica boat on the verge of capsizing. Then, the third Tarasco skiff coming from another direction hit with a "bang," fortuitously propping up the small boat. The three boats shook together for a moment, but amazingly all stabilized shortly after. Then, the warriors on all three vessels suddenly engaged in fierce combat.
Xiulote crouched on the boat, tightly gripping the gunwale, riding out the worst of the shaking. Then, he picked up his war club and stood up to face the onslaught of enemies. The young warrior, holding the club in both hands, slightly tilted his body and unleashed a powerful side blow! The club, aided by the rotational force of his torso, struck precisely on the head of the nearest Tarasco warrior. One second the warrior was grinning like a predator seizing its prey, and the next second came a "bang," and his smile, along with his face, was smashed to pieces, as he toppled over, head twisted to the side.
Xiulote had no time to watch his enemy die. He moved up close to the next aggressor, ducking slightly to avoid the short spear. Then, the young warrior hefted the war club and roared.
"Die!"
The meter-long club shot out vertically, carrying immense power, smashing directly into the enemy’s face and shattering the nasal bones. The second warrior let out a pitiful howl, dropped the short spear, and covered his burst eyes with both hands as he stumbled back into his comrade.
Xiulote swung again, crouching. Utilizing martial arts practiced over many years, he struck sooner than expected, accurately hitting the opposing warrior’s knee. The enemy’s copper spear missed its mark, and his left knee throbbed from the hit, buckling instantly. The young warrior didn’t pause and smashed the other knee. The enemy lost all his balance, screaming in pain as he fell into the water, followed by a club striking his head.
Xiulote took a deep breath, his strength temporarily spent from killing three men. A Tarasco warrior spotted an opportunity and snarled, his spear stabbing diagonally towards the young warrior, aiming fiercely for the vital area of the chest.
