NOVPUB"It seems I haven’t yet tasted turkey... Does it have this kind of gamey taste?"
The former gold miner unconsciously licked his lips, sampling the splattered blood. Then he shuddered deeply, his face filled with the bewilderment that follows slaughter.
The spear formation maintained an unusual silence as they mechanically killed in silence. Silence was a habit of the legion, facilitating the relay of commands from captains. The new troops thrust out their long spears, slowly and effectively killing the enemy, partaking in a collective slaughter without even glimpsing the faces of their opponents.
Guzman felt the morale of his comrades waning, looking at their somewhat glazed eyes, experiencing the same bewilderment as himself. It was everyone’s first time participating in such a massive field battle, the first time engaging in large-scale killing, where life and death blinked in an instant! He felt the silent atmosphere of the formation and believed he had to do something!
The young captain thought quickly and blew the bone whistle urgently.
"Toot toot! Priest, speak, sing!"
The priest in the center of the formation was also young, vigorously pushing forward with his companions. Hearing the captain’s call, he hesitated, then sang out a couple of lines he had memorized.
"The Chief Divine Huitzilopochtli is supreme and mighty, omnipotent! Those who believe shall be saved and ascend to the Divine Kingdom!... Praise the Chief Divine! He bestows us with food, we shall fight for Him!"
Hearing the familiar prayers, the spear militia gradually regained some vitality. The militiamen thrust their long spears, killing the strange enemy, while muttering to themselves.
"To be saved and ascend to the Divine Kingdom! Praise the Chief Divine, fight for Him!"
The intense confrontation seemed to last only a moment, yet also seemed to drag on for a long time. Not until the enemy before them suddenly cried out and then turned tail and fled did Guzman finally heave a sigh of relief. He stared blankly at the corpses scattered in front of him, at his comrades dyed red, stood motionless for a moment, then also murmured.
"I am saved, I ascend to the Divine Kingdom... I praise the Chief Divine, I fight for Him..."
Then, once again, the thunderous beat of war drums sounded from the rear; Guzman abruptly straightened up and put the bone whistle to his lips again.
"Toot toot toot! Advance, advance!"
Under the flag of the "Black Wolf," Xiulote stood erect on a high platform, looking towards the fiercely battling frontline.
The spear formation didn’t disappoint him. The tightly-knit formation faced the scattered enemy militia with almost no injury, crushing them utterly, even less than the samurais had suffered! Soon, the Chapala militia in front of them broke and fled in a rout, and the spear formation advanced again at a tortoise’s pace, yet with an overbearing force!
Under the parallel fire of arrows, the stabbing of spears, and the assault of the samurais, the twelve thousand Chapala militia suffered heavy casualties and morale plummeted rapidly. They had already broken ranks several times, losing over four thousand men. The dense corpses lay in front of both armies’ lines, kicked aside by both samurais and militiamen. On the blood-stained grass, long spears and war clubs advanced alternately, time and again defeating the enemy militia.
In the last wave, two thousand militiamen reached the front, vigorously throwing a volley of javelins, killing dozens of Mexica warriors. Then the warriors of the Holy City let out a cry, engaging fiercely and briefly. In less than a quarter-hour, two to three hundred militiamen fell to the ground, beaten into various wrecks by the war clubs. As the spear formations on both sides closed in slowly, the Chapala militia let out a cry of fear and suddenly collapsed, fleeing toward the rear formation.
The Samurai of Chapala waved their flags and copper spears, loudly guiding the Militia to the rear of the small hill, where they regrouped in formation. The battle lines of both groups of Samurai gradually drew near like intertwining serpents, swiftly closing to within a hundred paces!
Xiulote watched the unfolding battle without blinking. Soon, he forcefully waved the Spear Flag in his hand, a short, spiraling call followed by a loud blast of the horn.
The Mexica Samurai halted in succession. They erected their great shields, lowered their sturdy helmets, and stood around fifty to sixty paces from the enemy in front. Following them, the crossbowmen, panting, began to fire upwards. Within moments, a dense rain of arrows rose from the enemy’s front, aiming for the "Feathers" of the Commander’s Flag atop the small hill! 𝔫𝖔𝖛𝖕𝔲𝔟.𝔠𝖔𝖒
As the incoming arrow rain approached, "Feathers" Pengguari’s eyes narrowed, and he immediately crouched down to hide behind his protectors’ shields. Then, he sensed something amiss, naturally stood up, and calmly looked downslope. He was at the highest point of the small hill, draped in the Commander-in-Chief’s War Clothes, with Leather Armor underneath and surrounded by trusted aides with raised shields; he actually had no need to fear the enemy’s arrow rain.
As expected, the volley of arrows passed with a slanted trajectory, mostly hitting the tightly defended front line of Samurai, only felling dozens of Chapala Samurai. The lengthy Feathered Arrows "whooshed" in, sticking into the raised shields with a "thud" sound, intermittently mixed with the "thwack" of arrows piercing flesh and the cries of the grievously wounded.
Only a few hundred short crossbow bolts could rise to sufficient height, striking towards the denser rear ranks of Samurai. The stout bolts "zipped" past, embedding deeply into the trusted aides’ Great Shields. Occasionally, the bolts would penetrate gaps, skewering the faces of trusted aides, and bringing down one or two unlucky family Samurai.
Pengguari, watching the crossbow bolts whistling overhead, paused slightly, his expression changing. He took a shield from a trusted aide, shielded himself in front, and then quietly moved two steps away, distancing himself from the Commander’s Flag.
Afterwards, the "Feathers" Commander looked towards the front of the formation, his eyebrows deeply furrowed. On both flanks of the Mexica side, there were four thousand dense Spear Formations, which easily crushed the attacking Militia with very little loss. This kind of formation was similar to the Long Spears units established by King Su’angua, but their equipment was significantly better.
Pengguari pondered briefly, noting the enemy within an extreme shooting range of fifty to sixty paces, then waved the Divine Staff, pointing forward.
Soon, Militia Archers on the flanks received the order, releasing waves of volleyed Feathered Arrows. Four thousand simple Wooden Arrows cut through the sky, pattering onto the dense Spear Formation like raindrops, entering unprotected faces and instantly felling dozens of Militia. Screams of agony rose nearby as Guzman hastily ducked and blew his Bone Whistle.
"Toot toot! Raise the shields, lower your heads!"
Hearing the command, the Militia in front raised their shields overhead while those in the back covered the flanks. The spearmen in the Spear Formation raised their Spears as the Militia ducked their heads, and the second volley of Feathered Arrows arrived on schedule, causing only scattered casualties. Two more rounds of arrow rain came, and the Mexica crossbowmen in the back returned the favor with a volley of Longbows. The powerful Feathered Arrows shot up and down, piercing the clothed Militia Archers, causing an instantaneous two to three hundred casualties, and the small hill erupted with awful cries!
Seeing the effect of the arrows, "Feathers" Pengguari cursed under his breath, his face showing outrage.
"Greatbows with extreme range, Crossbows firing far, ignited Fire Arrows... and now even equipping Militia with War Armor, shields, and helmets! Mexican Valley, just how affluent are you?!"
Feathered Arrows came once more, toppling the archers around him amidst a circle of screams. The "Feathers" Commander waved his hand irritably, and his trusted aides, carrying copper spears, stepped in to silence all the noise. Then, he waved the commanding flag once more. Five hundred Great Shield Personal Guards advanced on each side, protecting the firing archers on one side and implementing strict supervision of the battle on the other.
Afterwards, Pengguari observed the Mexica legions. Seeing that the arrow rain was thinning out, he finally revealed a satisfied smile. At the Rivermouth Fortress, he had already tested the Mexica Longbows and knew the shortcomings of these Greatbows. Although the Longbows had a long range and powerful force, the Arrows were very expensive, requiring sturdy wooden shafts and costly feathers. For such heavy bows, ordinary arrows were simply not suitable!
"As long as I exhaust your supply of Arrows, I shall have nothing to fear!" Pengguari confidently said with a smile. Suddenly, his smile froze, and he looked puzzled towards the front. Before the two armies’ formations, the Mexica were holding torches, pushing forward two logs wrapped with Copper Hoops, their openings aimed right at him!
