Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 1478 - 1030: The Shaman’s Spiritual Descent, the Ancestor’s Questioning, and the Blood Oath’s Response!
All night, the wind and snow whispered, a murderous aura surrounded the tent, then dissipated like pine smoke. When the morning sun rose, the sky was clear and vast, and the sleeping Zuwaro slowly woke up, feeling refreshed as if he were ten years younger.
"Oh, Chief Divine! It’s truly miraculous! This feeling of vibrant vitality is simply incredible, as abundant and magnificent as corn!..."
Exploration Captain Zuwaro lowered his head and glanced at himself, genuine admiration appearing on his face. But as he recalled the hazy conversation from before he passed out, his heart seized with fear, and cold sweat sprang up on his back. He immediately reached for the short dagger on his waist, only to grab at emptiness. Upon further exploration, he found that his leather armor and weapons had all been removed, replaced by nothing but a deerskin robe from the Mountain Part, though he had no idea who had dressed him.
"What?... What!... These Mountain Part barbarians!..."
Zuwaro jumped up in panic, slipping on the deerskin boots with two swift movements. Then, slightly bent over, he carefully slipped out through the door of the tent...
"Chief of the Sea Tribe, you’re awake!"
Two Mountain Hunters were watching him with mirth. One had a familiar face, the exceptionally keen-eared hunter Mulu. The other was Wuhai, the hunter who could converse.
"Uh... friends from the Mountain Part, I have awakened... about my two followers..."
"Oh! They are still asleep..."
Wuhai and Mulu exchanged a glance, amicable smiles on their faces as they greeted Zuwaro. Then Mulu gestured towards the old grandmother’s tent, and Wuhai’s expression turned serious as he spoke to Zuwaro.
"Chief of the Sea Tribe, the old grandmother has said... please see her as soon as you wake up!..."
"Uh... the old grandmother wants to see me?..."
Thinking of the "kind and approachable" old grandmother, Exploration Captain Zuwaro’s forehead started to sweat slightly. He looked around, noticing the bustling activities of the Mountain Part in the morning. Tribespeople were slaughtering deer and skinning hides, continuing preparations for winter. The sight of the bloodied deer carcasses gave his skin a prickle of pain, somewhat empathetically...
"May the Spirits of the Ancestors protect! Chief of the Sea Tribe, let’s go!..."
The two Mountain Hunters smiled broadly, giving Zuwaro no time to hesitate. Zuwaro had no choice but to steel himself, following them as they sandwiched him, once more arriving at the Shaman Chieftain’s grand tent.
"Joint Ancestors, watch over us! Chief of the Sea Tribe, after drinking the sacred blood wine of the deer fetus, did the blessing of the deer’s vitality bring you joy?"
The old grandmother, Mother Muluke, raised her head, her smile even more benevolent and kindly than the day before. She was still seated on the white deerskin rug, adorned in the ceremonial attire of a tribal shaman. Two steps beside her sat Mukun, the Hunting Team Leader, who wore a stern expression and was lowering his head, stretching out his hand to inspect a row of neatly placed gear.
As Zuwaro looked more closely, it turned out to be a set of bronze cloth armor, a bronze axe, a longbow, a quiver of copper arrows, and a Kingdom-marked obsidian dagger!
"Ah! This! Old grandmother, what about my followers?..."
"Rest assured! My child... he is sleeping soundly, and I’ve merely borrowed his possessions for a look. I’ll return them once I’m done."
The old grandmother, Mother Muluke, waved her hand with a smile and gestured to the spot beside her. Zuwaro pursed his lips, clenching his teeth firmly before mustering enough courage to sit beside the old grandmother.
"The Chief Divine bears witness! Honored grandmother, thank you for your hospitality yesterday!... I am unaccustomed to wine, and I got somewhat drunk... Before I knew it, I might have uttered some nonsense..."
"Mm..."
The old grandmother, Mother Muluke, nodded but did not follow up on Zuwaro’s words. She extended her hand, and under Zuwaro’s rigid and surprised gaze, she touched his face and said with profound meaning.
"Ancestor’s blessing! Good child, you’re so handsome, well-suited to be my grandson-in-law!... My granddaughter Musuona just so happens to be with your Sea Tribe..."
"Uh?!... Your granddaughter, me?..."
Exploration Captain Zuwaro widened his eyes. As his thoughts churned, his expression quickly shifted.
"Respected old grandmother, you mean? An alliance by marriage?..."
"Mm..."
Old grandmother Mother Muluke chuckled, withdrawing her elderly hand and tightening her grip on the sharp deer bone staff. Slowly straightening her bent back, the expression on her face gradually grew serious. With her actions, the two tribal huntsmen also flanked him from both sides, pinning the unarmed Zuwaro in the middle!
"...?..."
"Muluke Alashanwa! Chief of the Sea Tribe! You have come from the eastern shore of the great sea, traveling to this cold snowfield peninsula, to the ancestral land our Mountain Part has inherited for generations... So, how much do you understand about this cold snowfield peninsula?"
"Uh... the Chief Divine witnesses! Respected old grandmother, please be forthright!..."
"Mm... Chief of the Sea Tribe, reindeer are the food source for the tribes of the snowfield, and the very foundation that nurtures them. Do you know how far a reindeer walks in a day foraging? And the range of land needed for tribal herded reindeer, to migrate enough to feed them for a whole year?"
"Uh... please enlighten me..."
"Muluke Alashanwa! Chief of the Sea Tribe, I am the shaman of the snowfield, capable of providing you with a clear answer. If it’s according to the pace you mentioned, walking ’thirty li’ a day in the snow... then a foraging reindeer can walk at least four times that distance, which is ’a hundred and twenty li’ a day! Meanwhile, the foraging and migratory range for the Mountain Part reindeer is at least half a month’s journey, equivalent to one thousand eight hundred li!"
"Hiss! Migrate a thousand eight hundred li?..."
