NOVPUBThe sun sat high, encircled by thousands of clouds, the profound sky reflecting the grandeur of the earth below. And at the king’s call, a hundred people repeated, their booming voices echoing in front of the army lines. Hearing Su’angua’s challenge for a duel, the warriors of both armies were instantly exhilarated. They tightened their grips on their weapons and murmured amongst themselves in low voices.
In this era, most believed that the fate of mortals was already determined by the deities, and earthly wars pleased the gods above. Death was always visible, unavoidable, and could come at any time. Only a glorious death could ascend to the Divine Kingdom, offering the soul its most beautiful resting place. And a sacred duel represented the most honorable death and victory!
Not far away, in the ranks of the Mexica envoy, Black Wolf Torc, wearing a subdued wolf helmet, stared unblinkingly at the King of Tarasco. He gripped his longbow in hand; despite the sixty paces between them, he never found a chance to shoot. Copper-axe Guards, holding great shields, tightly shielded the king in front of him, whose body and head were adorned with glittering metal armor.
Torc slightly tilted his head; the bright glare of the armor once again blinded his eyes. He clicked his tongue in regret and envy, then embarked on his next mission as ordered by his lord, committing to memory Su’angua’s appearance and stature to prepare for a potential pursuit. Soon, a middle-aged warrior with precise steps approached Su’angua and whispered a few words. The King of Tarasco then put down his Divine Staff and shouted loudly, challenging the Mexica army to a duel!
Stirred by the sacred duel, Black Wolf Torc’s spirit soared. He bared his teeth, a wolfish grin spreading across his face, his eyes alight with immense fighting spirit, sweeping over the elite warriors beside the king. At that moment, the middle-aged warrior also looked over, his face showing a rustic and firm expression. In that instant, as their eyes met, each saw in the other a similar confidence and yearning!
The call for a duel echoed in front of the lines. Under the flag of the Black Wolf, Xiulote paused thoughtfully, then looked toward the Head Warrior.
"Bertade, where is Iskali’s southern detachment now?"
"Your Highness, the last report was from the day before yesterday. By then, he had already obeyed the order to lead his troops northward, rapidly marching from over a hundred miles south to Ihuatzio City. In the past two days, the Tarasco Royal Army has expanded in the south, obscuring the surrounding battlefield and temporarily severing communication between the envoys and scouts. However, Su’angua’s army has already been revealed. If Iskali has the heart for battle, he must be on his way here!"
Xiulote nodded, smiling as he spoke.
"The month of the final end has long brought him fame; he has never feared battle. Therefore, let us accept Su’angua’s challenge!"
The Young Commander then raised his right hand, responding to the front, with hundreds of his trusted aides echoing loudly beside him.
"War God Huitzilopochtli protects us! The Alliance’s warriors fear no challenge! Su’angua, if you want battle, then battle it shall be!"
The bold response echoed between heaven and earth, the brief shout ringing like a war drum. Su’angua looked surprised, thoughtful. He paused for a moment, touching the extraordinarily sturdy bronze armor he wore, then hardened his expression and continued to respond loudly.
"The Sun God watches over us! The sacred duel is supreme! In the name of the deities, I, King of Tarasco, Cazonci of the Prepetcha people, Divine Descendant Su’angua, challenge the prince of Tenochtitlan, Divine Revelator, Divine Descendant Xiulote, to a relentless battle of honor that will not cease until death!"
"What?!"
This time it was Xiulote’s turn to look surprised. A duel between two commanders, even in the ancient era of Teotihuacan, was exceedingly rare. A one-on-one duel between two kings was utterly unprecedented in the epics. Such a confrontation had too many uncertainties, with neither side fully confident of victory.
Bertade stepped forward anxiously, whispering advice.
"Your Highness, you are a brilliant sun, there’s no need to compete with the eagle for height! Besides, you are still young, and your martial skills will certainly surpass mine in time!"
At these words, Xiulote’s face flushed slightly. He smiled and spoke.
"Don’t worry, Bertade, I’m aware of my current level. This is mere bravado, and I focus on the world, so it won’t weigh on my mind. Su’angua’s imposition of such an impossible demand likely reflects his disadvantage and desperation, but it is also designed to strike at our army’s morale. Now, I feel even more confident about our victory in the upcoming battle!"
With that, Xiulote’s demeanor turned solemn, and he shouted again toward the front.
"True kings never enter the fray lightly, relying on their martial prowess to seek victory. For kings are meant to rule, and warriors are meant to fight! Why should the Wolf King personally hunt the white deer? Go forth, my loyal and brave warriors, and prove your glory to your king!"
The intense battle drums resounded immediately, and the Temple Guards blew the harrowing Death Whistle while veteran warriors issued thrilling roars that shook the heavens. Following that, the Commander-in-Chief’s pennant was waved. A hundred brave Mexica warriors, renowned for their valor, then stepped out from the elite scout team. They strode up to the front lines of the two armies, bellowing angrily at the Tarasco legion.
Witnessing the sacred duel, Izel of the Tlalocan State was passionately excited—it was the quickest way to fame! He gripped his war club, ready to step forward out of line. At the crucial moment, the aged Head Warrior grabbed his shoulder, delivering a swift side throw that toppled him to the ground.
"Who?... You!... Head Warrior, why did you attack me?"
The aged Head Warrior gave Izel a sidelong glance and then spoke with a calm demeanor.
"Izel, you represent the Family Head in warfare, and I must preserve your life. Although His Highness has praised your bravery in person, you need to have a clear understanding of yourself. I followed the great predecessor monarch Montezuma and participated in ritual combat at the frontline against the Mistec people."
At this, the aged Head Warrior lifted his war clothes to reveal a long, narrow scar across his chest, nearly splitting him in two.
"Ritual combat, fighting to the death, is not something the likes of you can partake in now! Just watch carefully. Only when your martial arts surpass mine might you stand a chance to survive the melee when luck is on your side!"
Izel clenched his teeth in resentment as he got up from the ground. He sullenly raised his head and looked towards the front lines, his expression soon growing solemn. After a while, sweat began to seep out from his brow.
The Tarasco King’s troops had already returned to their formation. Over a hundred Tarasco warriors holding copper axes, war clubs, or copper spears, stepped into the battlefield at the front of the formations. Warriors from both sides held up their weapons and shields, boasting of their bravery to the War God. The warriors in the formations also shouted loudly at the opposing side. The War Priests sung gloriously, calling for the descent of the War God. Following that, along with a piercing chant, the abrupt battle drums suddenly struck!
The warriors from both sides immediately erupted into a cry of do-or-die, gripping their weapons and charging towards each other. In merely a dozen breaths, two hundred warriors were completely entangled with each other.
Izel watched, overwhelmed with amazement. The battle skills of these veteran warriors were so proficient that almost every fight drew admiration! Their sweeping strikes, forward thrusts, downward slashes, shield lifts, side shifts, shield counterstrikes, quick advances, small leaps backward, and diagonal steps—each movement was meticulously honed, swift, and concise, captured perfectly. It was the dance of life and death!
The elite Samurai always treated their shields as their lives, and frontal combat rarely ended quickly. A Mexica Samurai smashed down with his war club twice, then delivered a powerful kick, pushing back the shield-bearing enemy in front of him. He took a deep breath, without a pause, and suddenly twisted diagonally. With a sharp sweep of his war club, he struck another enemy engaged in battle. The Tarasco Samurai heard the sound of the wind and struggled to shift his shield to the side. Another opponent showed no mercy, stepping forward to press down on his shield with his weapon. The sweeping war club came abruptly, howling with immense force. The Tarasco Samurai only had time for a look of horror to cross his face before his neck snapped with a "crack," and his face was smashed beyond recognition.
It was a lethal strike, precise and concise in its carnage. The Mexica Samurai who made the first kill flashed a brilliant smile and nodded to his fellow warrior in acknowledgment. However, within a mere two breaths, his smile froze forever, and his head drooped eternally. With a "splat" and a "hiss," a sharp spear tip emerged from his chest and retracted abruptly. Blood spurted from the pierced heart, spraying several meters in a fan shape and covering another Samurai. Immediately after, the dead body fell forward with a "thump," and the sharp Copper Spear thrust violently from behind the corpse. The blood-soaked Mexica Samurai gritted his teeth and roared angrily, raising his shield in prepared defense. A new round of intense fighting broke out!
Calm standoffs were always brief, and fierce fighting escalated quickly. Under the eyes of tens of thousands of warriors, two hundred brave men roared, screamed, and bled. In just a few breaths, the ground before them was stained with the first layer of bright red.
"Shriek," skilled Scout Necali made a savage sneak attack, slashing obliquely through the cotton War Clothes and slicing open the enemy’s flank. "Hiss," blood and guts suddenly poured out from the huge cut. Necali flashed a cruel smile. He didn’t bother with the doomed enemy but immediately stepped back, quickly crouching and raising his shield to avoid any potential attacks. He then swept his gaze around, constantly moving, looking for the next opportunity to fight.
"Crack," "thump," another successful ambush. Necali smiled smugly once again. Then he curiously smacked his lips. The feeling of his last slash seemed a bit off? The experienced Scout quickly stepped back, distancing himself from the frontline, and looked around. The brutal battlefield was already filled with blood and dying moans. In less than a quarter of an hour, more than half of the duelists had died!
The Mexica Samurai now had the advantage in numbers. The elite warriors howled, gradually encircling the Tarascan from both sides. The frontal fighting grew even more intense and wild, with bloodshot Tarasco warriors occasionally discarding their shields, abandoning defense. They charged with Copper Spears in both hands, dying themselves while killing the enemy, joining their opponents in the Divine Kingdom!
Seeing this, Necali shook his head. This was the final frenzy of a dying beast. Then, he finally dared to lower his head to examine his war club. Blood flowed slowly from the club’s slot, absorbed by the cotton wrapped around the handle. The obsidian blades fixed in the slot were completely dulled, their brilliant red glinting in the sunlight.
"Pah, damn these hard-skulled Tarascans!" Necali muttered a curse, then again crouched and raised his shield. He quietly moved forward on the advancing battlefield, searching for a suitable weapon.
In just a moment, his eyes lit up as he spotted a shiny Bronze Axe a few steps away. He fiercely kicked aside the body of a high-ranking Tarasco warrior and swiftly picked up the axe from the ground. The smooth blade was exceptionally sharp, the metal surface gleaming coldly, reflecting his young, fierce face. Facing himself in the Bronze Axe, Necali paused briefly. Moments later, amidst the loud cries of the battlefield, he couldn’t hold back and again broke into a brilliant grin, like that of a hunter before the hunt!
