Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 1469 - 1021: We Come from the East!

"Goo goo!... Gulp! Ah woo!..."

"Delicious!... Really delicious! Truly Luba delicious!..."

"Haha! Jiao People brothers, eat slowly. There’s more if it’s not enough!"

As night fell, the cold wind grew more biting, and the bonfire by the coast grew warmer and brighter. Exploration Captain Zuwaro was smiling as he watched the two Itelmen Hunters holding leather helmets full of whale meat and seaweed soup, devouring meat and gulping down soup like starving beasts. They ate through four helmets in one go. Only after swallowing the spicy, savory soup did they finally warm up and exhale a few breaths of white-hot air in satisfaction amidst the cold wind.

"Whew! Oh, spirited Ancestors! What is this meat in the soup? It’s so chewy, thicker than deer meat, sturdier than fish meat, and with so much salt!... Hmm? Why do I feel so light and warm? I’m even sweating..."

Hunting Team Leader Mukun was panting with his tongue out like a hunting dog. Being the first from his North Asian Tribe to taste chili pepper, his face was flushed red, and his tongue was tingling with spice, unable to fully describe this peculiar sensation. Yet, he could clearly feel his body warming up from the spiciness in the freezing Northern Land, a precious warmth that could save lives.

"Ah, Captain! The food of these island tribes is truly remarkable! So much meat, so much salt, such warm firewood, it’s truly comfortable Luba!... Burp!..."

While continually exhaling from the spiciness, Hunter Mulu rubbed his round belly. Despite keeping his eyes glued to the aromatic big clay pot, his stomach simply couldn’t take anymore. After a while, he reluctantly burped and murmured softly to Mukun.

"Captain, they don’t seem to be from the Southern island tribes... We’ve fought those long-haired, bow-backed islanders before... They’re usually very poor; how could they have so much precious salt? They also don’t have such big ships and hardly any decent equipment, so why would they be friendly with us?..."

"Hmm..."

As Hunting Team Leader Mukun rubbed his chubby face, a sense of fog enveloped him once more. His expression slightly softened as he closely examined Captain Zuwaro’s smiling face, who was also returning the glance with a smile.

"Oh spirited Ancestors witness! You, tribes with longships, where do you come from? Winter is approaching. What do you intend to do in our Mountain Part territory?"

"Under the protection of the Chief Divine! Coastal Jiao People brothers, where is your tribe located? We’ve come with goodwill from the distant East, hoping to visit your Leader or Priest..."

The bright moon rose, casting a silvery glow over the northern snowfield. The flickering bonfire illuminated the well-fed, smiling faces of Samurai, sailors, and hunters. The two captains spoke for a long time, then exchanged confused glances, realizing a serious problem: the language barrier rendered them completely incapable of understanding each other!

"Uh... may the Chief Divine protect us!"

Exploration Captain Zuwaro’s brow furrowed slightly as he pondered for a moment, looking toward the surrounding crew. He called out in his somewhat unsteady Unanga language.

"Big Bear! You’re from the Mother Island at the westernmost of the island chain; come speak with them!"

Upon hearing this, the Unanga Hunter Big Bear nodded simply and approached Hunting Team Leader Mukun. This tall Unanga man, standing at 1.9 meters, was over a head taller than the 1.7-meter Itelmen hunter.

"Ancestors witness! The Great Chief sent us here. To the west, tombs, find four-legged beasts. Edible grass!"

"Uh? Ancestor? Grandmother? The tribe’s old grandmother?... West?... Dead? Who died?... Find? Find what?..."

Hunting Team Leader Mukun craned his head, trying hard to listen to the Unanga hunter’s words. As he listened, the bewilderment on his face deepened. He could vaguely understand some loose words, yet could not comprehend the connected sentences. Furthermore, the accent struck him as uncannily familiar; he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had heard it somewhere before!

In fact, the Eskimo-Aleut languages of the Unanga people and the Chukotko-Kamchatkan languages of the Itelmen people split roughly four thousand years ago! But there are many loanwords from the Eskimo-Aleut languages in the Chukotko-Kamchatkan languages, hinting at traces of something ancient. Perhaps it was the forced eastern migrations of the Aleut tribesmen, or maybe the conquests and integrations by the Kamchatkan tribes. As a symbol of the linguistic fusion between the two sides, the Kamchatka Tribe, which possesses the most Aleut words, occupies the northernmost Arctic tundra and the easternmost Bering Strait...

"Boss, what he’s saying doesn’t seem like the Southern island tribes at all! How does it have the Luba taste of the Northern tent tribes?"

Hunter Mulu blinked in astonishment, curiously guessing without thinking.

"The word he used wasn’t dying, but the cold place where the dead are buried, just like the tent tribe’s word! And he mentioned four-legged, isn’t that the tent tribe’s reindeer?... Then he brought up eating; those tent tribe people would eat their deceased relatives to lay them to rest inside their belly... Ah! They’re speaking the language of the Northern tent tribes and are tall like the tent tribe people... Could they be a tent tribe sitting on a ship?!"

"What! What Luba nonsense?! The tent tribes are already fierce, migrating with their herds across the wilderness, plundering surrounding tribes. If they had such big ships, capable of striking along the coast, how would Luba and we survive?"

Hunting Team Leader Mukun bit down hard, snapped at Hunter Mulu, a sense of terror slowly rising within him. The tent tribe they mentioned so fearfully were the Chukchi from the northernmost part of the Kamchatka Peninsula, the only fierce tribe among the Siberian tribes to successfully resist the Cossacks’ invasion!

The Arctic Chukchi herd thousands of reindeer, migrating and leading a nomadic life across the Arctic snowfields, where winter temperatures drop to minus thirty degrees, making them truly resilient polar tribes! They have no fixed villages, only wandering camps, making them very hard to track and capture, as well as natural raiders. The whole vast Arctic snowfield from the northernmost of the Kamchatka Peninsula is their migratory territory. They have crossed the straits and connected with the Inuit tribesmen of the western North American snowfields, merging each other’s languages, with tribal ties extending into ancient intermarriages. The languages of the Inuit tribes also belong to the Eskimo-Aleut linguistic family...

Thus, if the exploration fleet dared to venture north along the Arctic coast of the Bering Sea and haply encountered the fierce Chukchi tribes, it’d be possible to communicate with the Unanga tribal sailors. Whereas, with the southern Itelmen people, they would only understand a few words at most.

"Oh spirited Ancestors witness! You, tribe traveling on longships! Where exactly did you come from, and where are you headed?!"

Under the shimmering Silver River and the white snowfield, Hunting Team Leader Mukun turned somber, once again facing Exploration Captain Zuwaro, issuing the ultimate ’philosophical’ query. He pointed back and forth between himself and the northern mountains, declaring, word by word.

"I, come from the North, the mountain’s Mountain Part! And you, are you from the Northern tent tribes or the Southern island tribes?"

Hunting Team Leader Mukun’s face grew serious as he observed the puzzled expression of Zuwaro. If the others were from the cunning Southern island tribes, they were long-time adversaries of his tribe, never to be trusted! But if the others were from the Northern tent tribes, although ferocious and notorious, they weren’t immediate foes and could be somewhat trusted...

After pondering a moment, he gestured continuously, pointing at Zuwaro, and used a phrase Big Bear could understand: "Ancestor’s tomb."

"Your, Ancestor’s tomb!... Where is it?"

"Mine? Ancestor’s, tomb? Where?"

Exploration Captain Zuwaro paused momentarily upon facing the solemn and answer-awaiting expression of Hunting Team Leader Mukun. Sharp in perception, he sensed this question might be crucial in determining their disposition—be it hostile or amicable. He thought over it for a while, observed Mukun’s gestures, and suddenly had an epiphany!

"Ancestor’s tomb, where?... Ah! Where am I from? Where are we from?..."

"Chief Divine witness! I understand now!... We are from the East, the East! Where the sun rises, the East!..."