NOVPUBThis day was a non-stop grind, and they only managed to cultivate just over an acre. Ten acres would require five or six more days of toil.
Chiwaco wiped his sweat and picked up the tip of the digging stick. In less than two days, the stone blade had worn down significantly, needing a replacement midway. Fortunately, it was said that the Great Master had made arrangements early, and the craftsmen in the city were forging spare farming tools using bronze, continually supplying them to the able-bodied men cultivating outside the city.
The old Militia had used bronze Long Spears and knew that this metal was quite durable. However, production was scarce and the cost was high, so they were always prioritized for tools and weapons. As for bronze farming tools, they couldn’t count on them just yet.
In reality, digging holes for planting was not too bad. There was no need to plow, and stone digging sticks worked just as well. The real exertion came during harvest with the sickles; having sharp sickles could save a lot of effort. And when it came to sharpness, the Alliance’s Obsidian blades were the sharpest, even faster than ordinary bronze blades. However, the sources of Obsidian Stone were limited, it wore out quickly, and the cost was also very high.
The old Militia walked leisurely along the ridges, mind wandering aimlessly as he looked towards the horizon. The able-bodied men around him finished their work one by one, forming groups on the way back. They chatted about the day’s meals, causing a commotion over the fields. Now and then, someone greeted Chiwaco with a bow, and the old Militia smiled back.
The Mexica Samurai maintained the order of the ranks as they returned together, leaving only a duty-bound worker in the pavilion. This worker had to sleep in the fields overnight to guard them. If any agricultural tools were lost or the altars damaged, it would result in severe punishments including hair cutting, whipping, or even beheading.
Such tedious tasks of course wouldn’t fall to Chiwaco. He was now a Camp Commander in the fortification army, commanding a Militia brigade of two hundred men. Yes, the able-bodied men were all part of the Tarasco Surrendered Army, now arranged by the Great Master to engage in collective farming. They were organized in the form of an army, lived in communal camps, had to get up on time every day for prayer, breakfast, farm work until evening, followed by another prayer, dinner, and then rest back in their tents.
This life was essentially farming in military style and feeding themselves, with surplus food serving as military provisions for campaigns. The number of Surrendered Army personnel was calculated in the tens of thousands, now scattered in units of a thousand men each, divided into thirty fortified camps. Each camp’s officers were composed of Mexica Samurai, Mexica Militia, honored Tarasco Surrendered Generals, or earlier Tarasco Surrendered Soldiers.
Puap now led one of these thousand-man camps, and most of his old comrades were also leaders of two-hundred-man squads, except for Weizti who had given up his squad leader position to quietly follow the old Militia.
The crowds gathered at the end of the fields and then roughly split according to different battalions, noisily heading back to the camp. The squad leaders shouted loudly, the able-bodied men marched amidst the shouting and chaos, maintaining basic order with difficulty.
The old Militia led his own battalion, cajoling like he was leading a flock of turkeys. After several days of collective labor, these able-bodied men had started to follow basic rules. At least they wouldn’t stop halfway, urinate on the spot, or chase wild rabbits in the bushes. This might also be due to the effect of the Mexica Samurai’s whips.
At the very front of the column, Puap marched with a stern face, leading the fortified camp. Finally having become a hereditary Great Nobility, he still had to lead his subordinates in this strenuous fieldwork. Huitu Puap was now full of complaints, but didn’t dare show it, as this task was a strict mandate from the Prince and highly valued.
A few days ago, when spring plowing began, the Prince even went down to the fields himself, leading a group of high-ranking Commanders and generals, each planting just over an acre. A Legion Commander, who was particularly good at farming, even managed to plant two acres in the same amount of time. Since the Prince and the Commanders had personally set an example, the officers at all levels naturally did not dare to slack off, at least until this wave of enthusiasm passed.
Huitu Puap thought about the good days after this wave would pass, and a smile slowly spread across his face, but he was met by a group of neatly arranged fortified army troops coming his way.
Seeing the march of the opposite army, Puap’s countenance became serious. After a brief assessment, he identified that this was a purely Samurai-involved thousand-man camp. Among the thirty fortification camps, about five such Samurai camps existed, all consisting of surrendering Tarasco Samurai from previous battles. The troops in front of him were particularly disciplined, led by the young Family Head of the "Sky," Oorta.
Oorta’s face was also grim, like a creditor coming to collect debts. His followers were his own family’s Samurai, who arrogantly claimed unity and cohesiveness. The Prince hadn’t split and reassembled them.
In the last two days, terrifying news had come from the northwest: the two-hundred-year-old Sky family had been completely eradicated by the Feathers Prince, vanishing into thin air in the Chapala Lake Region. The Prince had personally summoned the Sky Family Head, kindly soothing him and even promised a Mexica noblewoman in marriage, allowing the Sky family to establish its roots in the Alliance.
In the face of the Prince’s consolation, Oorta responded gratefully, yet his face could not show a smile. A deep hatred accumulated in his heart, constantly craving for revenge and battle, looking forward to the day when he could campaign against Chapala.
Under their Commanders’ lead, the two fortified camps gradually approached each other. Puap measured for a moment, then stopped his steps, signaling for the Sky Samurai to pass first. Oorta proudly nodded and moved on, only to recall something after a few steps and turned back to face the Huitu warriors.
"Huitu Puap?"
"Respected Sky Family Head." Puap’s expression changed, but he first bowed his head in greeting.
As an aristocratic-born, Oorta then bowed in return. He forced a stiff smile, looking at the newly established nobleman before him.
"Huitu Noble, there’s a favor I must ask of you, please do not refuse."
"Speak."
"The Prince has ordered us to fortify our lands, and each man in the camp must complete ten acres, a total of ten thousand acres for a thousand-man camp."
"Indeed,"
"My camp is composed of Samurai, not skilled in farming chores. Could you possibly send some seasoned farmers among your able-bodied men to assist us somewhat?"
Puap paused for a moment before nodding with a smile in agreement.
"No problem, it’s only natural."
"Good!"
