NOVPUB"Damn turtle! I am a military noble of Mexica, I am a Samurai of the Royal Family! I demand a sacred and honorable duel with your leader!"
"Stop! Stop! Take him alive!"
Upon hearing Necali’s cry, Chiwaco paused momentarily, hurriedly raised his hand, and the Militia stopped together. The sharp point of the Bronze Spear, chilling to the bone, pressed tightly against the veteran Scout’s vital points, leaving him unable to turn around.
"You, what did you say? You, a military noble? Have you seen the Mexica Marshal?"
The old Militia Chiwaco took two steps closer, struggling to gesture to Necali using the dialect similar to that of the eastern mountain region and the Mexica.
"Of course! I am a Samurai directly under the Royal Family, serving the King generation after generation! I am the most outstanding Scout, His Highness who is skilled in battle often personally meets with me to listen to intelligence from the battlefield! Old warrior, are you their leader? I challenge you to a duel!"
Necali glanced at the old Militia and replied directly in fluent Tarasco Capital City language.
"All right! Strip him of his weapons and tie him up first!"
The old Militia laughed and nodded, completely ignoring Necali’s request, and shouted the order directly. Weizti immediately followed the command. He first hit the opponent’s arm with the shaft of the spear, then snatched away his shield and War Club, and finally, he threw the veteran Scout to the ground, hands tied behind his back, like a deer caught in a snare.
"Damn black fish, how dare you tie up your own...uh...uh...ugh!"
Beaten again by a Militia with a turban wrapped around his head, Necali’s eyes flared with sudden rage. He struggled fiercely, cursing out loud, and then a gray cloth was stuffed in his mouth, tainted with the stench of sweat.
Chiwaco stood to the side, thought intently for a moment, and felt that something was amiss. So he scratched his head and walked straight toward Puap.
"Master, the King is dead, what will happen to the Capital City now?"
Chiwaco approached Puap with a respectful demeanor to inquire.
Upon hearing this question, Puap’s expression darkened. He glanced at the old Militia and replied with a low tone.
"When the ancestral cocoa tree falls thunderously, the Hummingbird struggles feebly in the wind... Without reinforcements for the Kingdom, the Capital City’s morale dissipates, and it cannot be defended for long. No matter how the chief tries to keep it together, in a few months at most, the grand Capital City will fall to the Mexica."
"And once the Mexica march upon the city, those shameless Nobility, those incompetent Priests, will all scramble to secretly send Envoys. They will betray the Capital City to the Highness of Mexica in exchange for conditions to ensure their own survival!"
Hearing this, Chiwaco expressed his admiration.
"Master is wise! When the fox digs a hole, the rabbits will run all over the place, and the ones that run slowly become the fox’s meal. When the bear knocks over a tree, the monkeys also run wild, who will care about the fruits on the tree? They all become the bear’s meal."
During the conversation, the old Militia seemed thoughtful. His gaze grew profound, his voice gradually became deeper, and an inexplicable smile appeared on his face.
"Master, the King is dead, the army is defeated, and the Kingdom’s end is near! This war will soon be decided. It’s a war of the King, a war of the Nobility, a war of the Priests, but it is not our war! It destroys everything of the King, yet it is our opportunity!"
At these words, Puap looked over in surprise. Chiwaco paused, then pointed at the overgrown fields with his finger, where weeds were thriving amidst the farmland.
"Look, Master! The cocoa tree has fallen, the cornstalks have collapsed, but the weeds grow taller and taller, soon to be like little trees! Master, do you want to fall, or do you want to grow into a small tree?"
Puap’s expression shifted, less intense than before, as the seeds already began to sprout in his heart. He glanced again at the Spear tightly held in Chiwaco’s hands, then at the few Militia surrounding them, and cautiously asked in a low voice.
"Old Chi, what do you mean?"
"Faced with danger, rabbits have to run faster than others, and bears just want the fruits... Master, we have a suitable candidate right here!"
"Ah, this... Run fast, offer the fruits? A suitable candidate?..."
Upon hearing this, Puap’s gaze flickered. He turned his head to look at Necali, who was firmly bound.
"You’re saying... that could be... but... my family has passed down this legacy for generations, and the chief has been good to me!"
"Master, your family has been loyal for generations; it can’t end here! The Mexica prince is known for rewarding and punishing clearly, favoring common samurai. With your talents, if you can perform great deeds, you are certain to attain high position... And only if you attain high status will you have the chance to look after the chief’s family in the predetermined future!... Anyway, it’s better than letting the nobility and priests run ahead..."
After Cihuacoton finished speaking, both fell silent. The breeze blew through the grass, producing a rustling murmur and bringing the scent of spring grass. After a long while, Puap sighed.
"Hmm... Indeed, that’s true. The chief has been good to me; I must find a way to look after the chief’s family..."
The old militiaman nodded calmly and asked in a low voice,
"Master, exactly! Shall I go and talk to him then?"
Puap lapsed into silence once more. He bowed his head in thought for a while before whispering so faintly it was barely audible,
"...Hmm. Upon my return to the capital city, I’ll strive to guard the southern gate... at night, there will be the sound of the night owls... forget it, things that are too bothersome are always prone to mistakes, here’s my token..."
Cihuacoton listened carefully, and suddenly felt a chill in his left hand. He looked up and saw an additional jade talisman in his palm.
"...Master is wise!"
A sincere smile once again surfaced on the old militiaman’s face. He respectfully bowed, clutching the spear and the jade talisman tightly, and walked briskly to stand before Necali.
Necali lay bound on the ground, his mouth emitting muffled shouts. Seeing the old militiaman approaching with the spear and the fierce smile on his face, Necali struggled more fiercely, screaming hysterically.
The old militiaman stood firm, gently poking the patterns on Necali’s war clothes with a smile, then using the spear tip to count the marks of his military achievements, nodding in satisfaction. After that, he watched coldly for a moment until beads of sweat formed on Necali’s head. Then he waved his hand to disperse the guarding militia. Cihuacoton then bent down and whispered a few words into the ear of the seasoned scout.
Necali’s shouting abruptly stopped. He stared, disbelieving, at the old samurai before him. Cihuacoton smiled, pulling the grey cloth from Necali’s mouth and untying the ropes binding his hands and feet.
"You?... You!... Damn it! Was what you just said true?"
The experienced scout shouted out several times in excitement, but soon calmed down and asked in a lowered voice,
"Of course! If it’s just weeds, one must still find a way to live... The prince treats the people of the Lake Region better than these nobles... If you move quickly, and catch up with this year’s spring plowing, the Lake Region can also have fewer deaths..."
The old militiaman also grew excited but quickly lowered his eyes and took a deep sigh. Then, he extended his hand and grasped Necali’s hand.
"Here, take this. Keep it safe."
"This is... a token?"
"Yes. It’s also a token of trust from the prince."
Necali clenched the token, silent and wordless, slowly standing up from the ground. He glanced at the few scouts that had followed him, now cold corpses. He then looked at the fallen militiamen nearby, also turned into cold bodies. He looked around under the bright sky, on the vast plains, where there was only a lonely village and a dozen dirt-covered militia in front of the village, along with himself, drenched in sweat, captured and then released.
A ridiculous smile spread across the experienced scout’s face. He glanced at the profound Cihuacoton and the wooden-faced Weizti, feeling a torrent of emotions in his chest, but only uttered a brief farewell.
"Goodbye, Prepetcha people."
"Goodbye, Mexica man. The sooner, the better!"
Necali nodded, the words of farewell dissipating in the wind. As the morning sun rose into the sky, the two groups turned and parted ways. They ran towards their respective destinations, while also awaiting a new beginning.
