Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 600 - 296: First Battle in the Wilderness

The Northern Land stretched into the unknown distance. Marching northward from Otapan City for more than two hundred miles, the army entered the boundaries of the Pamus State.

The East here clung to the towering Eastern Madre Mountain Range. The moist easterly winds from the sea were blocked by the continuous mountains, resulting in a sudden decrease in precipitation and gradually sparse vegetation. The earth slowly lost its vibrancy, leaving behind vast traces of barrenness. Soon, the green highlands turned into gray-white wilderness, with yuccas and cacti dotted among the endless sand, appearing exceptionally magnificent and bleak.

As the Allied Forces advanced northward, the harrowing cries of battle resounded across the wilderness. Copper arrows and bone arrows flew back and forth, piercing soft bodies; war clubs clashed with stone spears, leaving fallen corpses behind. The small squads of scouts from both sides constantly entangled in skirmishes, showing no mercy upon encounter, coloring the wilderness with their lives.

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A black jaguar circled in the sky, emitting the deathly squawks. It rotated its gaze, observing the two groups of gray-blue figures battling each other and also waiting for the forthcoming feast. Before long, the parched land was soaked in bright red, and the number of motionless bodies increased. It wasn’t long before one side began to flee, while the other started the pursuit to kill.

"Whoosh!"

A sharp bone arrow sliced through the sky, and the figure running away collapsed to the ground instantly, without even a chance to let out a scream. Then, a red-haired warrior swiftly approached. He kicked the fallen corpse, looked at the feathered arrow that hit the heart accurately, and nodded with satisfaction.

"Pah, thought you could run! Could you outrun me?"

Ivican kicked the body twice more before stretching out his arm to wipe the sweat off his face with the cotton armor he wore. A dozen Canine Descendants scouts followed up from behind, likewise clothed in the gray-blue cotton armor of the Otomi. The scouts had been fighting continuously for months, and now they had all changed their equipment, wielding sharp obsidian clubs in their hands.

"Great! After such a long chase, we’ve finally left all those Otomi curs behind!"

Amoxtli glanced at the corpses and laughed with a wide grin.

"Ivican, your archery skills are powerful! Shooting a running person from dozens of steps away!"

"Aw! He was just running straight ahead, what’s there not to hit? The real challenge is shooting that big black bird in the sky!"

Saying so, Ivican squinted and raised his longbow, aiming into the sky.

Seeing this dangerous action, the jaguar immediately spread its wings and soared up more than ten meters before stopping. While circling in flight, it squawked as if mocking the hunter on the ground. In the food-scarce wilderness, the large birds would have been hunted to extinction by the skilled Canine Descendants if they hadn’t been so vigilant.

"Whoosh!"

A bone arrow flew upward forcefully, cleaving through the air and grazing the wing of the jaguar. The big black bird shuddered in fright, promptly abandoning the prospect of food and flew far away.

Ivican first let out a regretful sigh, then revealed a content smile. He fondled the longbow lovingly, intimately feeling the wood grain, as if communicating with a weapon of divinity.

"Amoxtli, this greatbow is really something! Strong and very steady."

Amoxtli’s eyes brimmed with envy looking at the greatbow. A few days ago, two squads of scouts joined forces to ambush a group of scattered Otomi Warriors. They captured this handy greatbow from the hands of the leading nobility. For the ownership of this divine bow, the two argued, with Ivican of the Great Tribe ultimately taking possession.

"Ivican, when will we go and grab another greatbow?"

"We’ll see! The Otomi curs rarely have greatbows; they usually stay within the main army. The Cactus Scouts do have many greatbows, but they’re tough to beat, and one risks losing oneself if not careful."

Hearing this, Amoxtli sighed and kicked a stone on the ground.

"The Otomi are becoming increasingly troublesome! In today’s battle, although our ambush was successful and we killed twenty Otomi curs, we also lost seven tribal warriors!"

Upon hearing this, Ivican put away his longbow. He looked at the scouts following behind him, and a rare look of concern appeared on his face.

"Awooo! Today we shot nearly half of the Otomi warriors dead, and only then did the curs’ morale collapse, turning tail to flee. Damn it! Before, a simple skirmish would scatter them. Now, with the backing of the Jaguar heads from the Cactus Tribe, even the curs can hang their tails down and pretend to be wolves!"

"Hmm. At least we didn’t let a single one get away alive. Otherwise, if the Jaguar heads from the Cactus Tribe were to come, we would be in trouble!"

At the mention of the Mexica’s Jaguar warriors, both red-haired scouts shuddered. These expert warriors, adept at tracking, could not be shaken off and were all well-versed in martial arts, moving with fiendish speed, making them the Canine scouts’ most dangerous enemies.

The two red-haired warriors looked towards the south, staring vacantly together, until Ivican was the first to speak.

"Amoxtli, the army to the south is too large, as scouts are scattered everywhere. After ambushing this group of curs, we cannot stay here any longer. Where shall we go next?"

"Ivican, there are three main forces in the allied army to the south, Otomi curs carrying bird banners on both sides, and in the center, Cactus warriors holding the Wolf Banner. We’ve just scouted the western force, and the east is likely the same. Now, we should check out the enemies in the middle to report back to the Chieftain and the Elders!"

Amoxtli thought for a while, then made up his mind. As long as they could gather useful intelligence earlier, they could return to the tribe to report and would be able to leave the increasingly dangerous south sooner.

"Awooo, makes sense! The Cactus warriors in the middle run the fastest, charging ahead, and I reckon they’re almost at the doorstep of the Red Mouse tribe’s home. It’s the perfect time to observe their battle formation! ... Amoxtli, my friend, while you may not run as fast as I do, you always seem to be a tad smarter. In my opinion, you should leave that small tribe and join us Red Foxes sooner rather than later! I guarantee that Chief Otuwa will value you highly!"

Upon hearing the familiar persuasion, Amoxtli casually shook his head. Being ordered around in a large tribe was nowhere near as enjoyable as leading in a small tribe! He squinted his eyes, noted the direction of the sun, and headed accurately towards the East.

The evening sun bathed the red-haired warriors, casting long slanting shadows that soon disappeared into the deepening twilight. The night on the highland was long and quiet. The moonlight was dim, infusing the air with a hint of chill.

To avoid detection, neither scouting party lit a bonfire; they simply rested quietly, conserving their strength. The Canine scouts, accustomed to hunting, could barely see at night but similarly lacked the capacity for night battles. A peaceful night passed uneventfully until the rising sun heralded the start of a new day’s fighting.

In the bright sunlight, the Toltec, carrying the Commander-in-Chief’s battle flag, stood proudly and gazed at a nearby hill.

Atop the hill, there was a rudimentary encampment belonging to the Canine tribe. The camp’s perimeter was roughly enclosed with a wooden fence, and a red vole banner fluttered at the entrance. At that moment, hundreds of Canine warriors holding short bows and stone spears intently watched the approaching great army of thousands.

"One hundred, two hundred... one thousand, fifteen hundred... not even two thousand people, at most five hundred warriors!"

Toltec, magnificent in appearance, widened his eyes and mentally counted the number of Canine tribe members. He bent his fingers, doing the calculations for a while, until he finally estimated a rough number.

"Fools! What gave them the courage to stay and resist facing the Alliance’s legion?"

Black Wolf was somewhat puzzled. He looked behind him, where three thousand longbow militiamen, two thousand barbarian javelin throwers, and one thousand Temple crossbowmen, five thousand strong of the Mexica legion, were arrayed in order, surrounding the hill without leaving a single gap. He also observed a small river winding below, with large expanses of cultivated farmland lush and green. The corn in the fields had already flowered and pollinated, producing small ears of corn.

"Ah, I see! The harvest is not far off; it’s just hard to wait."

Toltec murmured to himself, then his face broke into a smile, pleased with his own learning. He laughed for a moment before taking out the command banner and swung it vigorously towards the direction of the encampment!

"Hear my command! Temple crossbowmen, be on the alert! Vanguard throwers, prepare your javelins! Longbow militiamen, approach for shooting!"