NOVPUBIn the past six months, the Kingdom had lost five thousand Samurai, five thousand elite Militia, and thirteen thousand from the Lake Region Militia. The people of Tarasco had steadfastly held the last third of their fortress clusters, with four thousand of the fallen warriors being reinforcements from Tekos. The Alliance, on the other hand, had suffered casualties of seven thousand Mexica Samurai and twelve thousand Militia. The losses on both sides had started to even out, and the offensive push of the Alliance had been exhausted.
Over the course of nine months, the forests of Apachigan had devoured nearly eighty thousand warriors and Militia from both sides. Whether they were noble Nobility, fierce Samurai, or ordinary Militia, they all became cold remains, buried long in the mounds amidst the mountains. The only trace they left was an insignificant number in the heart of the Supreme Commander. Such tragic losses caused turmoil among the Nobility on both sides, and the Samurai found it difficult to press on with the attack. Over the past month, the Mexica had completely ceased large-scale Samurai sieges, and had only conducted harassment operations led by the Militia to maintain pressure on the front lines.
"The Kingdom still has forty thousand warriors left, half of whom are the battle-hardened Samurai and elite Militia groups. The Alliance, probably has over fifty thousand, of which thirty thousand are Samurai. The frontline of Apachigan has now been stabilized, with both sides equally matched, everyone pushed to their limit. The Mexica can’t sustain any more Samurai casualties... so, I’ve held this place!"
The young King gazed at the dimming sky, screaming in silence. Although he was on the dangerous front lines, he had never betrayed the glory of the Royal Family, proving his worth to his ancestors!
The Envoys sent to various states had all brought back favorable news. The Holy City Cholula had accepted the treaty of conversion, shifting to a neutral stance. The leaders from Tlaxcala in the East had married into the Royal Family and had already gathered tens of thousands of warriors, invading the border of the Mexica Alliance. The people of Mistec and Zapotecs in the south had also shown a warming attitude. These "people of the clouds" had interrupted their New Year tribute to the Alliance and formed a covert Alliance with the Kingdom, promising to extend help when the situation changed. The Otomi people in the north were embroiled in controversy, divided into two factions with differing opinions. People from Vastec in the northeast, unsatisfied with the oppressive tribute, were also restless. Only the distant Totonac from further east had yet to respond. 𝒏𝒐𝙫𝙥𝙪𝙗.𝒄𝙤𝙢
"A significant shift is imminent. Just hold on for another half a year, and the entire situation of this war will change dramatically!"
Su’angua closed his reddened eyes, tears streaming down silently. He stepped into the shadows of the Watchtower, reached out to touch the banner of his ancestors, and then quietly wiped his face with his sleeve. Then, the young King turned around, gazed towards the Capital City in the northwest, issuing a long sigh and an angry shout.
"Foolish Ospe... Cowardly Pengguari... Mexica’s ’God of Death’ Xiulote!"
The young King muttered the three names, his emotions of resentment decreasing in turn, his unwilling desires rising continuously, darkness swallowing his spirit. But no matter how much resentment he held, no matter how unwilling he was, the outcome of this battle could no longer be changed. The reinforcement forces had been completely crushed, supply lines were nearly cut off, and the Capital City was under the enemy’s blades! The only option left before him was the inevitable third phase, a rapid retreat.
Su’angua gazed towards the west, watching the setting sun slowly fall, seeing the shadows encroach upon earth and sky. It was not until his loyal guard lit a bonfire that Quiyus, the Southern Route Commander, donned in War Clothes, hurried over.
"Respected King, I have just returned from the front-line fortress, please forgive my tardiness!"
Quiyus knelt on one knee, performing a solemn salute. The Southern Route Commander was about forty years old, with a rugged face. His eyes revealed the vicissitudes of a life well-lived, the visage bore the dignity of the Royal Family, and his bearing was filled with the murderous intent of the battlefield.
"Uncle Quiyus, no need for such formality. You are the Royal Family’s mighty eagle, flowing with the bloodline of the Tariguri ancestors. You are also the Marshal in the Southern Army that I trust the most!"
Su’angua walked forward and lifted Quiyus to his feet. Then he grasped the other man’s arm, gazing into the eyes of the Southern Route Commander.
"Uncle, do you still remember the glory of our ancestors?"
Hearing the word "Uncle" and seeing the eyes of the King, Quiyus paused briefly. Then, with a resolute nod, he answered loudly.
"Under the banner of the eagle, I shall shed my blood until death takes me!"
The King watched silently for a moment. Then, he let go, stepped back two paces, and disappeared into the shadows of the Watchtower.
"Uncle, the Mexica have defeated Pengguari’s reinforcements. They are about to surround the Capital City, cutting off Patzcuaro City’s supply lines."
Quiyus was struck by shock. He widened his eyes and asked in a low, angry voice.
"The thirty-thousand-strong army from Chapala, so easily defeated?! Your Majesty, has this news been confirmed?"
Su’angua nodded slowly. His voice came softly, but his changing visage was obscured.
"It’s a secret message from the chief of Jinjinni. Outside the Capital City, there are no more reinforcements. The food supply in Apachigan can last a little over a month. The news of the shortage can’t be hidden for much longer... This defensive line, it can no longer be held."
Quiyus stood speechless. He displayed an incredulous expression, then suddenly turned, looking towards the western lands. At that moment, the sun had completely set, the plains were shrouded in shadows, and all that lay before him was profound darkness.
"This defensive line, it can’t be held any longer..." the Southern Route Commander repeated unconsciously. Then, he suddenly started, looking up at the King.
"Your Majesty, have you summoned me, for...?"
Su’angua fell silent for a moment before speaking calmly.
"The Capital City is in grave danger, I must quickly return with my troops, preserving the last hope. The Tlaxcalans have already sent out their forces, as long as the Capital does not fall, the glory of our ancestors can continue... Uncle, you are the Royal Family’s mighty eagle, and the person I trust the most! Only you can take charge of the situation in the southeast!"
