NOVPUBThousands of Mexica archers advanced to the front line and began firing rapidly and fiercely. The spear-wielding militia of Tarasco kept falling, even the Copper-Axe Guards holding shields were continually dying. The fierce offensive surged like waves, focusing on the most disadvantaged central path.
Yuku sighed, once again shooting down a militiaman in the front line casually. Then, he gestured for the guards to disperse and shook the yellow flag for free firing. Only then did the peerless warrior calm down, joining the Divine Archers by his side in mutually suppressing the Mexica archers, patiently trading shots.
The Tarasco guards were slightly outnumbered, but each was highly skilled in martial arts, wearing copper helmets and shoulder armor. They spared no expense in using armor-piercing copper arrows, shooting through the gaps between small formations and fighting an equal battle with the more numerous archery legion.
The front lines brandished copper spears and war clubs while the rear alternated between copper arrows and bone arrows. Death rolled in with the long wind, descending upon every corner of the battlefield! Close-range shooting was especially difficult to defend against and thus particularly brutal. However, after two rounds, each side had suffered over a hundred bowmen killed.
Xiulote silently observed the casualties from the shooting, and he nodded heavily and affirmatively. The battle groups participating in the shooting were composed of the Royal Family’s Longbow Warriors and his own Longbow trusted aides. Although they were combat-savvy, they were slightly less elite than the Copper-Axe Guards. These formidable guards were efficient at both long and close range, and currently, using this method of attrition, the Mexica legion had the advantage!
The three armies killed each other, dying together back and forth. The vast battlefield boiled and overflowed with noise, and the fierce killing reached a climax!
In this king’s war, the elite warriors and militia, like roasted pine nuts, crackled loudly and then cracked open and fell in batches; while the noble aristocracy and officials, like fragile tomatoes, fell under the blade and the rain of arrows, splattering blood in groups. Boiling waves of sound filled everyone’s ears, and vibrant red colors emerged before everyone’s eyes, until two thundering sounds of "thunderbolt" exploded again in the warriors’ hearts!
"Boom, boom!" The long-silent two wooden cannons were finally loaded and moved to the fiercely contested left wing. Operated by craftsmen, the wooden cannons fired from the outskirts of the formation, shooting obliquely into the rear of the Royal Army warriors! A dozen Tarasco warriors toppled over, rolling on the ground in agony. The enemy on the left wing suddenly slowed, and their morale sharply decreased, causing the neatly operating squads to suddenly halt.
In the midst of the fierce battle, Olosh’s eyes brightened. He seized this rare opportunity, once again leading hundreds of Holy City Jaguar warriors into the enemy’s formation. A group of two hundred men were suddenly dispersed, and the squad replacing them was still in brief chaos. The Holy City warriors surged forward, turning two hundred Tarasco warriors into fallen bodies, thus gaining the upper hand in the battle!
Under the fierce charge of the Mexica legion, the remaining two thousand Tarasco warriors stepped back dozens of steps before grouping into several spear formations under the command of the Royal commander-in-chief, stubbornly blocking the advance of the Holy City warriors.
Hearing the thunder sound again, the hawk-eyed Yuku narrowed his eyes. He turned towards the noise coming from the bombarded right wing of the Royal Army, made a quick judgment, then gestured for the divine archers to follow him. After that, the agile hunter bowed his body, swiftly moving towards the right wing. In just over a dozen breaths, the mysterious Mexica wooden cannon appeared again before him. The peerless warrior suddenly stood firm, pulled back his greatbow, and released a fierce shot!
"Swoosh! Thud!" The arrow pierced into an eye socket, exiting through the back of the head. Behind the smoking wooden cannon, a canon-operating craftsman fell backward, dead on the spot. "Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!" A barrage of feathered arrows swiftly followed, killing over a dozen cannoneers. Only then did the supervising warriors turn their shields to protect the right side of the craftsmen.
Witnessing batch after batch dying before them, the cannon operators trembled all over, half-kneeling beside the wooden cannon. Most of them had been selected from craftsmen, entrusted with an important mission by His Highness, and had always enjoyed generous treatment. One young cannoneer couldn’t bear the pressure of life and death anymore, suddenly stood up, and screamed as he ran to the rear.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" Another volley of feathered arrows swiftly struck, piercing through the bodies of the fleeing soldiers. The young gunner knelt on the ground, and with one last glance at the overseeing longbow-armed trusted aide, he slumped over, devoid of all life.
On the King’s battlefield, retreat meant death! The trusted aides looked indifferently at the dead bodies and, with solemn expressions, drew their longbows again. At that moment, they entrusted their fate to the Chief Divine and the divine archers opposite them, staking their only lives!
With the cover provided by the archers, the two wooden cannons were finally dragged away by the gunners from the perilous frontline. The tense reloading began again. The gunners clenched their teeth and silently prayed to the Chief Divine for a safe return next time!
Under the commander’s flag of Black Wolf, Xiulote stood imposingly. He was like a Wolf King atop a mountain, controlling the vast battlefield beneath him!
The battle was extremely fierce, and every minute of the fight saw hundreds of elite samurai fall dead! The Mexica legion held the overall advantage, and the thunderous cannon fire continued for two rounds. But the Tarasco royal army, tough as resilient leather, still maintained a stable defensive position. Although the enemy’s morale continued to wane, it stubbornly did not collapse. The King of Tarasco stood firm behind the central army, with the battered banner held high. The royal eagle, though with broken wings, never once touched the ground!
The Young Commander hesitated briefly. This battle had been all-in from the start, and he had already committed the vast majority of his pieces. At this moment, he had only the five hundred warriors of the Jaguar Warrior Brigade from the Capital City left in his hand, ready to be deployed anywhere on the frontline for a potentially fatal strike!
Seeing the prince’s hesitation, Bertade knew what was in his mind. With no one else around, he stepped forward and whispered his advice.
"Your Highness, this is the King’s war, and the safety of the King is supreme! The enemy’s Imperial Guards still possess the strength to charge... Let the samurai battle in the front, and die for the glory of the King!"
Xiulote slightly closed his eyes and nodded slowly. He gazed down at the blood-drenched earth below, where blood blossomed into flowers, flowers dyed into a red carpet, and the carpet concealed beneath corpses. In this splendid spring light, cold bodies were trampled into the soft soil, nourishing the wilderness with rich nutrients. The cries of battle shook the heavens, birds fled in the distance, and only the spring breeze remained, transforming into profound clouds.
"Such fertile land. This year’s spring plowing will certainly yield a good harvest!" 𝒏𝙤𝙫𝒑𝙪𝙗.𝙘𝒐𝙢
The young king muttered softly to himself, an imperceptible transformation quietly occurring within him. Xiulote did not notice, simply casting his gaze towards the north. In the clear horizon, thousands of Tarasco samurai could be seen shouting and roaring, clashing with Toltec’s forces. High above, the Hummingbird banner stood tall, facing the Eagle Banner of the south, yet seemingly separated by the greatest of distances!
And in this moment, under the banner of the Hummingbird, an elderly samurai clad in leather armor, wielding a copper spear, silently stared into the distance at the black Wolf Banner, which haunted his nightmares countless times.
