NOVPUBThe clash in the outskirts of the forest was drawing to a close. Under the encirclement of superior forces and precise archery, almost all the Copper-axe Guards fighting the rear guard had perished. Only a very few managed to escape into the perilous forest under the cover of the dim night. The Mexica Samurai lit torches and divided into groups of dozens, scattering throughout the woods to search. It was not until the two Commanders appeared before them, Bertade holding the head of a hunting hound aloft, that the warriors of the Alliance burst into enthusiastic cheers together!
The Head Warrior loudly ordered the Samurai to regroup, then called over his deputy and whispered a few sentences to him. Shortly thereafter, a group of trusted aides came discreetly forward to take over the unconscious Su’angua. The Black Wolf himself took charge, vigilantly standing guard beside him. The army then set out on their journey, with the unconscious King of Tarasco hanging his head low, being carried out of the woods on someone’s back.
A dim moon rose from the East, illuminating the layered corpses in front of the tree line. All the bronze axes from the bodies had been taken, leaving behind only the torn Leather Armor and deep blood stains on the ground. The wind blew eerily through the treetops, and the night owl called out softly. It opened its round eyes wide, sniffing the scent of death on the ground. The formidable Imperial Guard Legion of Tarasco had thus silently perished here, forever hidden in the depths of the forest!
As the night grew deeper, hundreds of warriors carried their torches, hurriedly heading north into the vast plains with their prey. Bertade gazed into the distance; the layered shadows covered the land, obscuring the traces of the day’s conflict. And thousands of torches flickered across the plains like stars in the sky. Amidst the dense constellation, the cries of the Samurai intersected nonstop.
The army had not traveled far before a large group of Samurai approached from the opposite direction, greeting them from afar.
"Is this the battalion of the Divine Eagle’s Head Warrior?"
"Indeed! Which legion are you from?"
"I am the deputy commander of Iskali, the hereditary noble from Tenochtitlan, and Cazonci of the Southern Army vanguard! His Excellency, the godlike warrior, sent us to carefully clear the battlefield and to meet you as well, the brave Divine Eagle’s Head Warrior!"
As they conversed, both parties drew closer. Bertade subtly signaled, and the Black Wolf concealed the prey at the core of the legion. Then, the Head Warrior stepped forward with a smile to the front of the formation.
"Where is Marshal Iskali?"
The responding Cazonci, dust-stained and athletic in build, wore a face filled with the joy of victory.
"A great triumph! The illustrious one has set up his command tent at the edge of the northern battlefield. The Commander himself has already presented himself to His Excellency! The army just finished reorganizing, and the celebration feast is about to start shortly!"
Bertade glanced at the joy on Cazonci’s face and nodded to himself. He then looked around and asked in a solemn voice.
"The plain is filled with torches, why are there so many troops clearing the battlefield?"
"Ha! The captive King of Tarasco caught by the army was merely a red parrot, while the true eagle is nowhere to be found. His Excellency stormed with rage, deploying us, the fresh reinforcements, to scour the mountains and forests, vowing to find the King dead or alive!... Ah, I wonder which squad will be favored by the gods to capture the greatest trophy of the western campaign!"
The noble Cazonci chuckled, his face showing a look of envy, while his eyes revealed a greedy yearning. Suddenly, he seemed to think of something, looking at Bertade with a smile.
"Divine Eagle’s Head Warrior, what were the results of your chase?"
Bertade’s eyes flickered slightly. He nodded with a smile and pointed to the head at his waist, saying simply.
"I have completed the mission given by His Excellency."
Cazonci looked at the head’s face, the greed in his eyes flashing by. He then looked admiringly at the Head Warrior.
"I too have heard that the hound Yuku was an unparalleled warrior! To have killed such an opponent, you truly deserve the title bestowed upon you by His Highness, the Head Eagle Warrior! Some in the Southern Army still doubt you, but in my eyes, your title is undoubtedly well-earned!"
Bertade smiled and nodded in thanks for Coyote’s praise. He gestured for the legion to continue marching, and then conversed quietly with Coyote, who was marching beside him.
"For the vanguard of the Southern Army to arrive in time was indeed no easy feat!"
"Indeed. We traveled for two weeks by canoe, then landed in the south. Everyone was tired and hungry, with a severe shortage of food and supplies. Fortunately, the Tarasco nobility were easily defeated, with no leader to speak of. The army plundered for a while, gathered enough food to head north, and then immediately heeded His Highness’s call, hastening day and night!"
"His Highness often tells us that Marshal Iskali is a true hero, a tiger and leopard who revels in battle, and never disappoints!"
"Haha! The commander also tells us that His Highness is invincible in battle, a true scion of the Royal Family! Today’s epic battle saw His Highness defeat the Royal Army of Tarasco head-on. The Mexica Divine Eagle shall henceforth soar into the skies, while the mighty eagle of Tarasco will forever have its wings clipped. From now on, in the hearts of the nobility and samurai of the Alliance, His Highness will be like the real sun, rising gently from the East!"
Listening to such a description, Bertade wore a smile on his face but felt a chill in his heart. He turned his head to look at the middle-aged noble beside him. Coyote, implying deep significance with his gaze, extended his right arm and made a fist.
"The Alliance places the highest value on military merit! On behalf of the hereditary nobility of Tenochtitlan, and as Clan Leader of the Coyote Clan, I salute the great His Highness! Please convey the Coyote Clan’s most esteemed greetings to His Highness. The line of the High Priest has always been our most sincere friend!"
In the Nava language, "Coyote" signifies a yellow coyote. Such a hereditary name symbolizes a clan that coexists with the Alliance, one that is rooted deeply in the Lake Capital City and never hastily reveals their stance. But now, they finally bowed to His Highness.
Bertade observed for a moment and a perfect smile gradually emerged on his face. He nodded deeply and gripped the other’s arm with a strong handshake.
"The nascent sun cannot be without the grandeur of the Lake Capital City. The Coyote Clan is rooted in the Capital City..."
"Naturally so..."
The two continued to walk, conversing in low tones, enjoying each other’s company. Laughter faintly carried far into the heart of the formation. Black Wolf looked up, confusedly gazing in the direction of the Head Warrior. Purely a warrior, who had only recently entered into the ranks of the commanders, he knew little of politics. After listening for a moment, the Black Wolf boredly scratched his head and looked at the "White Deer" they had captured, opening his mouth to a content smile.
As night fell, clouds drifted from afar, deepening the shadow over the land. Great fires lit up the plains, and raucous voices carried from a distance. Black Wolf looked toward the sound, noting the patrols growing denser, revealing a vast camp before everyone’s eyes.
Within the camp at that moment, tens of thousands of warriors sang with abandon amidst tumultuous noise! Occasionally, some would leap into celebratory war dances, shouting the names of gods and His Highness, their voices filled with the joy of a great victory. The warm night breeze blew, stirring the bonfires to dance, and maize cakes seasoned with chili roasted on the fire, filling the air with an enticing aroma.
As the army returned to camp, the warriors dispersed, and the leaders proceeded forward, soon arriving at the Commander-in-Chief’s grand tent. With Coyote looking on in surprise, Black Wolf, carrying the sacred "White Deer," was the first to lift the tent flap and stride in.
A fresh breeze blew through the entrance, stirring the bright bonfires, and instantly, the clamor in the tent paused, drawing all eyes to the entrance. His Highness sat majestically in the central seat, his demeanor ever more profound and imperiously calm. Behind His Highness stood a row of armor-clad trusted aides, with ferocious generals on either side. Beside the main seat, a middle-aged warrior with high cheekbones and a stern expression sat cross-legged.
Black Wolf Torc raised his head proudly, surveying the assembly of generals, then glanced with disdain at the downcast monkey Kuluka. He stepped forward, laid the unconscious Su’angua in the center of the large tent, and, ignoring the scrutinous or speculative glances of the generals, he cried out confidently.
"I, Black Wolf Torc, offer to the supreme His Highness the most sacred quarry—the King of Tarasco, Cazonci Su’angua!"
"Congratulations on His Highness’s great victory! I am Your Highness’s Black Wolf, and just as I have brought you the hunt’s White Deer from Tarasco, I will sweep clean the world for you!"
