Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 569 - 277 New Year’s Grand Ceremony, Elder’s Heart_2

```

"Even if we share the same ancestors, it’s definitely us Mexica people who fight the best!"

In a corner of the plaza, envoys from all over the world exchanged glances with each other. A vague premonition arose in their hearts. Such a declaration could change the pattern of the world... but they couldn’t ponder it deeply at the moment because the announcement was followed by a sacrifice!

"The Sun awakens, opening its red eyes! The Chief Divine descends, witnessing the blood-red future! We offer Holy Blood to the Chief Divine, blessing the world with devout hearts!... Grateful to the Chief Divine, we offer Holy Blood!"

"Grateful to the Chief Divine, we offer Holy Blood!"

Amidst the priests’ shouts, the murmurs ceased instantly. The multitude in the plaza fell silent for a moment. Then, the fourth thunderous roar of astonishment exploded, terrifying all the foreign envoys.

"Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice!"

Atop the towering pyramid, the multitudes bowed and rose like a swarm of ants. The waves of their cries rose from the foot and dispersed into the far sky with the long winds. The High Priest slightly tilted his head, caught the godlike expression of the Elder, and understandingly waved the Divine Staff in his hand, commanding loudly.

"Begin the sacrifice!"

Hundreds of Temple Guards obeyed the command. Fully armed Religious Knights escorted the numb-faced Tarasco nobility towards their destined fate. The Great Sacrifice would last three days, with 800 nobility offered each day. It was a number endowed with Divinity, symbolizing the cycle of Eras.

Xiuxoke gazed intently as two rows of the blue procession, like serpents, wound for miles, slowly flowing toward the peak of the Twin Pyramids, to the two Sacrificial Stones in front of the Temple. There, twelve Elder Priests had already split into two groups, daggers of Obsidian in hand, ready to proceed. Soon, a familiar and aged cry echoed in the up and down of the Great Temple.

"Descendant of the Rubber People, Akanbaro State’s nobility, Kukuna II, goes to the Sun God’s domain! His soul, following its own will, shall meet with his father who went to the Divine Kingdom, and find eternal peace!"

"Thud, thud... boom..."

A fresh corpse rolled down from the top of the Great Temple, then stopped before Xiuxoke, blocked by the statue of the Moon Goddess. The resolute samurai glanced at the young face and the terror in the eyes just before death, and shook his head lightly.

Stanley stood upright next to him and laughed heartily.

"Haha, someone is named Kukuna? In our Mexica language, Keke Lou means a foolish turkey, right?"

"In the Prepetcha language, Kukuna also means turkey. I remember this family; encountered them at the North Coast Wooden Fort and the Rivermouth Fort."

"Tsk tsk, what a name! Kukuna II, haha, so his father was also a Kukuna turkey? A turkey-like, weak Prepetcha!"

"Actually not. His father died in battle, was quite the warrior! But this fellow, seems like he was captured by the Militia..."

The two men, accustomed to bloodshed, gazed at the fresh red on the ground and chatted indifferently. Suddenly, another roar of cheers went up like thunder, resounding under the gradually reddening Great Temple.

"We-we! Elder!! Sun!!!"

The Elder, expressionless, slowly raised the Divine Staff in his right hand. Then, he stretched out his left hand and took from the reverent High Priest a throbbing, living heart. The boiling cheers reached their peak! Under the watchful eyes of the multitude, the Elder raised his left hand and threw the living heart forcefully into the blazing Sacred Fire.

The blue smoke rose gently, the blood turned into char, and a soul was thus offered to the Chief Divine. The Elder calmly watched the Sacred Fire for a moment, then slowly turned and walked toward the Temple behind him. There was a special priest’s passage leading to the adjacent Chief Palace.

"Praise to the Chief Divine! The great Xiwakowatle, the undying sun of the Mexica people, the incarnation of the lofty Chief Divine, the supreme Elder, returns to the Throne of the Gods!"

With the High Priests’ laudation, tens of thousands of Mexica Citizens bowed again, reverently seeing off the departing deity among men.

The Elder’s demeanor was calm, his steps were steady. He exuded no sign of fatigue or decline. He seemed like the sun and moon of the heavens, as though he would eternally last. Behind him, the Guard Captain still held the clay pot, remaining close at all times.

As the light dimmed and the shadows slowly engulfed, the Elder stepped into the towering Temple, leaving behind the increasingly fervent ceremony. The noises of life faded in a moment, leaving only death-like silence. The Elder walked into the downward sloping passage, now with no one else around. Finally, he stopped, his body suddenly slumped, leaning against the cold stone wall.

"Venerable!"

```

The Guard Commander let out a low call and hurried forward, just in time to support the Elder’s arm. "Thump," the long Feather Crown fell from the elder’s head, his completely white hair becoming disheveled. The swaying shadow brought a breeze that revealed the frail body beneath the voluminous black robe, already thin and bony. Underneath the rich scent of spices was an unmistakable old man’s smell!

"Venerable One... Your Potion!"

The Guard Commander carefully supported the Elder, allowing the latter to lean on his shoulder. Then, he opened a clay jar and took out a jar of pale yellow potion.

"No need, Cevali."

In the Nava language, Cevali means "shadow." The indistinctly present shadow was always loyally attached to the mountain, never leaving for a moment.

The Elder closed his eyes, resting for a good while before he calmly opened them again, emitting a rare sigh.

"Stimulating potions borrow from life yet to come. And I don’t have much life left... The Alliance can’t survive without me. I must try to live a little longer."

It took another good while before the Elder regained his strength. He slowly got up, steadied himself, and reached out to take the Feather Crown and put it on again. A strong, sweet, and bloody smell assaulted his nose as the Elder shifted his gaze to his left hand, now covered in fresh red.

"Cevali."

The most uptodate nove𝙡s are published on frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓.

"Respected Elder."

"Tell me honestly, who do you think can stabilise the hearts of the Alliance after I die?"

"Ah, this... Venerable One, you are the immortal Sun..."

"Speak."

His calm words carried a gentle tone yet held an irresistible force. Cevali was silent for a moment before he succinctly replied.

"The High Priest and the King. Together, they are enough."

"The High Priest..."

The Elder gazed at his bloodied left hand, his eyes as deep and dark as the ocean floor. After a long moment, he began to speak emotionlessly.

"What if, the High Priest departs before me?"

At these words, Cevali’s expression changed subtly. He thought carefully for a moment, then gently shook his head, remaining silent.

"Hmm. The Holy City line..."

The Elder closed his eyes and slowly withdrew his left hand. In his weathered heart, the image of a young and handsome face suddenly flashed.

"The vibrancy of youth, truly enviable..."

After a lengthy silence, the Elder sighed deeply. He had come all the way from the past century, his spirit as mighty as the mountains and seas. In this world, the only thing that could make him sigh was the merciless passage of time.

"Let’s go."

The old Elder took his steps, slowly descending underground. Cevali, clutching the clay jar tight like a silent sculpture, followed closely behind. The New Year’s grand celebration was reaching its climax behind them!

Name after name, one fresh life after another, and soul after soul! The citizens of the Capital were engulfed in sheer fervor. The boiling cheers penetrated the stone walls, crossing past and present, and moving towards a brand new future!