NOVPUBThe burning smoke drifted away from the water gate, carrying the distinct volcanic odor of sulfur, as if it connected to the Netherworld below. The slanted evening sun poured its brilliance from above the city walls, casting a splendid and warm golden glow that seemed to link to the Divine Kingdom in the heavens.
In this moment, the sturdy water gate suddenly collapsed, and the Mexica army surged forth like a god-given blessing, breaching the weakened West City in one fell swoop! All the Defending Army within the fortress then faced an inevitable grave choice: Would they fight to the bitter end and head to the Netherworld below, or would they surrender and make a sacrificial journey to the Divine Kingdom above?
The old Militia, Chiwaco, lay atop the city wall, hesitating for a long time between the Netherworld and the Divine Kingdom. Moments later, he finally mustered the courage to choose neither, striving to live on amongst the living! He pulled out his pouch of herbs that now only smelt of blood, took two deep breaths, and looked back at the combat raging within the city.
The Mexica’s naval fleet rowed fiercely, moving as swiftly as the wind. Dozens of large boats passed through the water gate, along the narrow channel, and arrived at a spacious, deep mooring pool. Here, numerous unattended Tarasco small boats were tied haphazardly by the poolside.
Since the water gate of the Rivermouth fortress was sealed off, the remaining Tarasco Naval Forces had attempted several times to break free, escaping in many small boats. However, their organization was almost no more. Consequently, the remaining small boats were poorly managed and had caught the eye of certain Nobility.
The invading large boats made no pause, bracing against Feathered Arrows that began to react from the city walls above, like ferocious Crocodiles pouncing into the water pool, and then charging directly onto the pool’s edge!
Next, the ferocious veteran, Etalik, took the lead, leaping from the bow of the ship. He skilfully wielded his War Club and swiftly killed several obstructing enemy Militia from unexpected angles. After a brief check, he led his trusted aide towards the nearest platform, slaying the guarding Militia.
Having reached the platform, the Commander of the Temple Guards took another moment to survey his surroundings, then took out the infamous "Aztec Death Whistle" and blew it hard, emitting a horrifyingly piercing whistle!
That shrill whistle was so terrifying, like the wail of a night specter, or the summoning of death, piercing the eardrums of everyone nearby. Amidst the unsettling whistle, the Tarasco Militia shuddered all at once, overwhelmed by a tremendous fear!
The Death Whistle, resembling a miniaturized skull, was a special instrument of the Mexica Temple Guards, traditionally used in both Sacrificial Rites and war. It could emit extremely high-frequency sound waves, deterring enemies within dozens of meters.
The Temple Guards who landed one after another were well-trained and unaffected. They, fully armed, leaped from their large boats, swiftly dispatching surrounding panicked Militia. Then, lifting their Great Shields, they gathered in groups of hundreds, all while looking towards the Commander atop the platform.
The veteran Etalik gave a fierce smile and nodded slightly.
He raised his War Club, first pointing towards the city walls on both left and right sides of West City, then turned inward towards the Marshal’s great banner on the tower within South City. The Temple Guards quickly divided into three groups and charged without hesitation towards the three directions. Reinforcements who came through the water gate landed continuously, following in the footsteps of the Vanguards.
Soon, a total of one thousand five hundred Temple Guards leapt from the large boats, shouting the names of deities as they charged in different directions. These devout and ferocious warriors assaulted the alleyways within the city, scaling the corridors on the city walls. With powerful swings of their War Clubs, they slaughtered each and every Militia that stood in their way. At the moment when the city’s reserve troops were exhausted, this was an unstoppable Force!
Following the Temple Guards, "Black Wolf" Toltec, exuberant, stood bow in hand at the ship’s bow. He led over a thousand Longbow Militia as the second wave to rush into the city.
Upon entering the city, the young skilled Samurai glanced around with piercing eyes and raised an eyebrow. He saw hundreds of Tarasco warriors hastening to support from within the city, followed by several hundred Militia.
These warriors, mostly in plain dress embroidered with the family crest of turkeys, looked uneasy yet resolute. At the command of the "Turkey" Nobility, Kukuna, they suddenly shouted out, praising the name of the Goddess Haratana, before clashing fiercely with the Temple Guards that had broken into the city.
The "Turkey" Nobility, Kukuna, his face filled with worry, looked troubled at the battle unfolding before him. The South City walls had fallen, fierce combat raged on the corridors above, barely holding on. The Marshal was trapped in a Watchtower within the city, futilely directing the ever-dwindling troops. And now, with the sudden collapse of the water gate on the west side, they had no choice but to commit to a fight with their remaining warrior Militia, a fight to the death.
"The water gate is lost, the situation increasingly dire! Those hidden getaway boats are now beyond reach. Perhaps, it’s time to consider surrendering to the Mexica!"
Kukuna, dressed in splendor, stepped onto an adjacent platform, once again examining the combat in the alley below. The enemy Temple Guards were fervent, extraordinarily formidable. The reinforcements, warriors and Militia could only Formations in defense. On the frontline of combat, War Clubs struck against Cotton Armor, Long Spears jabbed at shields, stalemating the situation for the time being. However, it was gradually tilting in favor of the Mexica. Then, he stood erect, gazing at the situation at the water gate where the enemy was, his eyes suddenly narrowing. 𝓃𝓸𝓿𝓹𝓾𝓫.𝓬ℴ𝓶
"Whiz!" A Feathered Arrow split the air, its whistling sound slicing through, followed by a loud roar.
"Hit!"
"Thump," Kukuna’s face suddenly stiffened, then was taken over by extreme pain. He struggled to open his mouth, but could only emit a "heh heh" wheeze, spewing out countless flecks of blood. Then, the "Turkey" Nobility stretched out his hand, shaking as he touched the Arrow embedded in his throat, desperately trying to hold back the gushing blood, but all was in vain!
