NOVPUBThus, life gradually became fuel, burned steadily in the collision of the war machine in a ratio that the Mexica legion could accept. The morale of the defending army was also gradually decreasing, from the initial inspiring shouts to today’s exhausted silence.
Soon, Jiowar, the commander of the Otapan Legion, hurried over. After the water battle, the "Coyote’s" fierce expression was replaced by respect, and he kneeled on one knee in compliance.
"Respected elder brother, Your Highness, what are your orders?"
Xiulote nodded, his gaze tightly fixed on Jiowar, and he ordered sternly.
"Jiowar, the feint attack you conducted a few days ago was well done. Today, you are to lead the brave Ottopan Warriors in a real assault on the city! I’m giving you a batch of additional Leather Armor, let the warriors wear Double Armor, and the Crossbowmen will continuously suppress the enemy atop the walls. Go and select your elite, boost their morale, and lead the vanguard when the battle drums sound! Do not allow a retreat until the conch sounds!"
Hearing this harsh military order, Jiowar remained silent. In the feign attacks of the past few days, the Otapan Legion had already lost four to five hundred men. This real assault on the city would only result in even heavier losses. After a moment, feeling the Young Commander’s intense gaze, he bowed his head again and accepted the order.
"Your Highness, I obey your command and am willing to die in your service!"
Quickly, with the military order issued, the Mexica camp truly boiled over. Thousands of warriors successively left the camp, and arrayed themselves hundreds of steps away, in front of the southern wall of the Rivermouth fortress. The Ottopan Warriors were positioned at the forefront, followed by the Temple Guards, the Holy City Warriors, and the Spear Legion. Once the vanguard could firmly establish their position on the walls, the following legions would join them. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the fortress, more than two thousand warriors from the western City-States also launched diversionary feint attacks.
Confronting the major movements of the Mexica legion, the Tarasco defending army on the walls became visibly nervous. Warriors patrolled and shouted on the battlements to boost morale. The Militia worked hard to reinforce the Great Shields on the walls, thicken the piled earth platforms, and prepare all available wooden and stone materials to throw, including sand and lime.
Xiulote calmly walked down from the high platform, leaving the commander’s banner behind. In this advantageous siege battle, he no longer needed a flag to encourage his troops’ morale. Then, under the protection of his trusted aide’s shield, he moved to the front line, more than two hundred steps away from the walls, to better grasp the siege situation. Olosh also put on Leather Armor, holding a shield and a club, guarding beside him.
Soon, the commander’s signal flag swung mercilessly, and the guard’s horn blew fiercely, announcing the beginning of the assault!
Four hundred strong and colossal Temple Guards, frenzied in demeanor, holding massive Stirrup Crossbows, advanced to about one hundred and forty steps. There were dozens of small earth platforms, at the edge of the enemy Longbows’ lethal range. With the help of rope ladders, nearly half of the Temple Guards climbed the nearly eight-meter-tall platforms to ready the heavy crossbows. The people of Tarasco on the walls could not make any counterattacks and desperately reinforced shields and platforms, hiding their bodies behind cover.
Shortly afterwards, the solemn horn sounded again, and the Crossbowmen suddenly fired. "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" Hundreds of Crossbow Arrows launched from a superior height, tracing a slightly descending arc, and abruptly pinned on the walls.
In an instant, several piteous screams arose, more than ten militia with inadequate protection were pierced by arrows. The bolts penetrated their frail bodies clad in cloth, knocking them down immediately. The lucky militia were killed instantly by vital shots without a struggle. Unlucky ones were pinned against the wooden shields next to them, struggling in place as blood profusely flowed from their ripped wounds.
The "Crocodile" banners fluttered in the wind as the Tarasco Samurai, overseeing the battle, did not hesitate. They brandished their daggers, executing the grievously wounded militia who screamed in agony, granting them relief and preventing any further demoralization. The dead bodies were thrown outside the city to prevent decay within the city walls. Only the lightly wounded militiamen were simply bandaged so that they could continue to serve as fodder in the defense of the city.
After what seemed like dozens of breaths, the second volley of crossbow arrows whooshed through the air, this time claiming only three or four militiamen. With the enemy maintaining a state of evasion, this round of shooting caused minimal casualties. The crossbow arrows used in the heavy crossbows were more expensive, and the crossbowmen maintained long intervals between their shots, merely serving to suppress those atop the ramparts.
With the launch of the second round of crossbow arrows, thousands of Longbow Samurai slowly advanced towards the city walls, pushing over two hundred small shield carts. The Samurai had grim expressions, fostering lethal intentions. As they entered within ninety paces, the longbowmen on the ramparts started to shoot. The "whoosh" of feathered arrows from above lodged deeply into the thick wood of the great shields. Occasionally, two or three arrows, by chance, would shoot through the openings in the shield, striking the Longbow Samurai behind who immediately fell, the arrows piercing their chests and bellies, draining their strength.
At this point, the rudimentary yet sturdy shield carts would pause momentarily. The remaining Samurai would bend down, checking on their comrades, as ordered by the Marshal. If their teammate was dead, they would continue to push the cart forward. If there was still hope, they would stop in place, administer quick first aid, and then exchange fire with the city walls from there.
Most of the shield carts advanced to about fifty paces before stopping together. This was the maximum distance at which a Tlaxcalan bow could penetrate leather armor, a distance measured with lives. Only then did the Samurai draw their bows and release a volley of arrows. The dense shower of arrows, flying over tens of paces, struck precisely into the eyes, mouths, or throats of the Tarasco archers, penetrating inches into their skulls. Several enemy archers peering out to shoot instantly fell dead, and about a dozen militiamen also perished silently. At such close range, to be hit by an arrow was to face death.
The battle flags on the ramparts waved, and at the noble commander’s behest, the reserve Tarasco Samurai didn’t pause. They quickly picked up the precious longbows and continued to exchange fire with those below, taking extra care to shield their bodies.
As the Longbowmen began to further oppress, about a dozen basic siege towers, carrying nearly a hundred archers and pushed forward by two hundred militiamen, targeted the left section of the city wall to exert intense pressure.
This was the latest siege equipment designed by Xiulote. Drawing inspiration from ancient siege towers and nest carts of the Celestial Empire, while maintaining the functions of carrying and defense, the design was simplified according to the era’s manufacturing capabilities. The nest cart was relatively simple, consisting of two rows of eight solid wooden wheels, a stable base, and one upright log reinforced on each side. Between the two towering logs, a platform built nearly ten meters high could accommodate six or seven archers firing simultaneously. The sides and bottom of the platform were reinforced with wooden boards to ward off arrow fire. On the rear hung a rope ladder, allowing the Samurai to climb up, replacing complex and fragile stretching mechanisms.
At this moment, the dozen nest carts gradually approached to within sixty paces, and the archers above started firing continuously. "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh," the feathered arrows, with the advantage of height, mercilessly shot past the shields and earth embankments of the wall segment toward the backbone of the Tarasco defense. In a targeted barrage, nearly ten commanding Samurai were struck with arrows simultaneously, and deep, agonizing groans echoed continuously. The militiamen suddenly lost their repression and command, causing immediate chaos on this section of the wall.
The thunderous beat of drums finally sounded at this moment! With a fierce howl from Jiowar, the awaiting Ottopan Warriors shouted together. Clad in Double Armor and raising their shields, with dozens of seven-to-eight-meter ladders carried in the center, they rapidly charged toward the city walls. Along with the intense beat of drums, the earth embankments, shield carts, and nest carts, more than a thousand bowmen and crossbowmen fired at the same time. The dense shower of arrows brought a piercing howl, instantly pinning the peeking Tarasco archers. Then, the ruthless arrow shower continued without pause, exerting all efforts to suppress all life on the ramparts. "Thud, thud, thud," the sound of arrows hitting wood merged into a symphony of death!
The Ottopan Samurai rapidly moved within a hundred paces of the city walls, now engulfed in the shadow of death. Jiowar howled again as the Samurai hunched and ran, striding desperately. They crossed the increasingly perilous distance at maximum speed. The Tarasco longbowmen also fought back desperately, the "whoosh" of feathered arrows not needing to aim, simply falling directly into the mass of Samurai. Those struck by arrows immediately fell to the ground. The surviving Samurai bled profusely, struggling weakly on the ground, yet no one cared. At this moment, whether gravely wounded or dead, all met the same fate.
Hundreds of paces away, Xiulote’s expression was steely as he watched the battlefield before him. He watched as the Ottopan Samurai began to die in groups, his heart as hard as iron. For this was merely the beginning.
When the Ottopan Samurai finally charged within forty paces, the real slaughter arrived!
