NOVPUBA gentle breeze blew across the green fields, reaching the rolling mountains. Tall trees spread their branches, concealing the traces of fighting in the forest. The bushes, nourished by life, became even lusher and more verdant. The setting sun lit up the towering stone forts, creating a patchwork of colorful oils painting—the brown-green of the bricks, the black-gray of the smoke, and the dark red of bloodstains.
By evening, the battlefield had fallen silent. Hurled stone projectiles lay scattered among the stone forts, and broken feathered arrows were deeply embedded in the soil. In front of the stone forts, on the battlefield, both the Alliance and the Kingdom’s militiamen wore numb expressions and were busily engaged. They collected the relics of fallen samurai and buried the bodies of their respective militias right there. The ground was filled with deep red marks, which not even the rain could wash away. Only the lush green grass could eventually cover the cruel battlefield.
Slender plumes of cooking smoke rose from within the clusters of stone forts, visible from across the forested mountains. The smoke drifted past the stationed samurai, circled the banners on the watchtowers, and rose into the profound sky. Priests accompanying the army began to chant an ancient funeral song, praying for the Heavenly Divine to descend and guide the departed souls.
The song dispersed in the wind, and flags fluttered. At the top of the clusters of stone forts, different flags fluttered. Over two-thirds had already been replaced with the Mexica Alliance’s Royal Banner, but the remaining third were still the Tarasco Kingdom’s Eagle Banners. The Eagle Banner forts surrounded Apachigan to the northwest, at the heart of which lay the core of Tarasco’s defenses, an impregnable High Mountain Fortress undulating two hundred li across the mountainous area.
Golden sunlight bathed the fortress atop the mountain, where the King’s flags fluttered proudly on the watchtower. The Royal Family’s eagle spread its wings, soaring toward the western sky. King Su’angua, expressionless, stood at the top of the stone fort. He stared at the hereditary Royal Banner, like a statue carved from stone, letting the setting sun cast long shadows. A few steps away, the King’s Copper-axe Guards, clad in copper helmets and leather armor, wielding copper axes and longbows, solemnly guarded the surroundings.
As the daylight gradually faded, the dying sun stained the earth red. The young King lowered his eyes and slowly spoke,
"Is the replacement Royal Banner ready?"
"Respected King, the replicated new banner is prepared. When night deepens, we will change the hereditary banner," the trusted aide behind him replied, bending forward, his voice low and firm.
"Summon Southern Route Commander Quiyus. Have him come discreetly, without any followers."
The King retained his calm tone. He turned around and looked toward the southeastern woodlands. In the last light of the sun, the Mexica people’s Royal Banner stood out in the distance. The blood-red sun soared on the banners, the deep blue War God bloomed with plumes, the yellow-green gemstone glittered brightly, stinging Su’angua’s eyes.
The King slightly tilted his head back, suppressing the moisture in his eyes. The sky was vast, the mountains majestic, and the fortress beneath his feet was so invincible. The hereditary Royal Banner stood tall at the highest point of the fortress, forever witnessing the glory belonging to the Royal Family.
From the spring plowing last year to the spring breeze this year, it had been over nine months of fighting. The main force of the Mexica Alliance was firmly blocked within the two hundred li of forests of Apachigan, never able to break through. Tens of thousands of Alliance samurai halted at the last, highest, and most solid defense line, battering themselves bloody, unable to advance even an inch.
Su’angua quietly reminisced, countless memories of days and nights flooding his thoughts. The shouts of the battle echoed in the sky, and flowing blood submerged the earth. This prolonged southeastern campaign was also about to come to an end, ending bleakly in a way he had not anticipated.
On this lines of complicated battle, the Kingdom and the Alliance had been entangled for years, already thoroughly familiar with each other’s situations. The Tarasco Kingdom had rallied twenty-three thousand samurai, ten thousand elite militiamen, and fifty thousand regular militiamen, while the Mexica Alliance had mobilized forty-five thousand samurai and over forty thousand militiamen. The colossal battle involving nearly two hundred thousand from both sides was an epic unprecedented in the world!
The entire campaign was roughly divided into two phases. The first phase saw the Kingdom retract while the Alliance advanced. From last June to October, the Mexica people launched a surprise attack during the spring planting season. Using longbows, stones, fire arrows, and paper fireballs, enhanced by new weapons, they advanced unstoppably. Only when Su’angua led the Royal Legion to arrive, and the Lake Region’s militiamen and Tekos warriors joined in support, was the enemy’s advance gradually withstood. In these four months, the Kingdom lost five thousand samurai and fifteen thousand militiamen, losing about half of their fort clusters. However, the Alliance also suffered six thousand samurai and eight thousand militiamen casualties, holding the advantage in casualties and advances.
The second phase consisted of both sides holding their lines, forming defenses. From last October to this March, the Mexica people’s advance slowed and eventually halted completely. Facing the mountain-supported High Mountain Fortress, longbows and stone-throwing lost their effectiveness. Mexica samurai hurled ceramic globes, unleashing thunderous explosions, briefly shaking the troops’ morale. Yet, under the sacred Royal Banner, the courage of the Imperial Guards never wavered. The Copper-axe Guards swung their battle axes, killing nearly a hundred Nobility Battle Groups, repelling the fierce attacks of the Mexica samurai.
When the Kingdom’s archers concentrated their shooting, the exploding clays had no opportunity to reach the castle again. The Capital City’s craftsmen worked tirelessly, supplying five thousand replicated longbows to the front within six months. Thousands of longbowmen spread across the front line’s fort clusters, keeping the Mexica samurai from raising their heads. The Alliance lost the advantage of archery, and the Kingdom’s defenses became extremely solid again. The stone fort clusters held the geographical advantage, making them difficult to conquer. Samurai from both sides fell in swathes between the forts, cautiously contracting afterwards, shifting the focus of attrition to the more vulnerable militiamen. Stone projectiles and arrow storms alternated across the sky, relentlessly striking down the militiamen.
