Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 601 - 297: The Advance of Black Wolf

"Boom, boom, boom!"

The attack war drums sounded vigorously. Led by dozens of Prepetcha archers, two thousand Longbow Militia arranged themselves in a loose formation and advanced, ready to shoot. These Tarasco archers were dressed in gray paper armor, wore yellow vine hats, held bamboo longbows, carried a bag of inexpensive reed bone arrows on their waists, and each had a dagger for self-defense. They were cheap to assemble and relatively easy to maintain but were not adept at close combat, which is why they maintained their light mobility.

As the large group of archers steadily approached, the Canine Descendants shouted nervously. Hunters raised their Hunting Bows, relying on the terrain of the small hill, and valiantly fired towards the outskirts of the camp. However, the Hunting Bows were short, and the flurry of bone arrows ran out of force after traveling a few dozen steps, ineffectively sticking into the archers’ paper armor without causing any damage.

"Tweet, tweet!..."

Accompanied by two short whistles, the Longbow Militia stopped in their tracks and then drew their bows and nocked their arrows. At this distance of about sixty paces from the camp, the Canine Descendants’ Hunting Bows could hardly damage the archers’ paper armor, while the archers’ longbows could easily penetrate the Canine Descendants’ cloth garments.

"Tweet!... Whoosh!"

The shrill flute sounded, and the leading Samurai suddenly released their fingers, conducting the first round of test firing. Dozens of long arrows drew a short arc, slanting into the wooden fence. The Canine Descendants burst into laughter and curses. Then, the Samurai adjusted their angles, leading the archers behind them in a direct volley!

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

Thousands of reed arrows tore through the sky, like birds taking flight, carrying the howls of the God of Death as they shot into the Canine Descendants’ camp! Over a hundred Canine Descendants were wounded and fell to the ground, emitting piercing screams and spilling copious blood. Within the Red Mouse Tribe, chaos and noise erupted suddenly, like a disturbed nest of mice.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

The second volley of arrows arrived. Dozens of impulsive Canine Warriors tried to open the camp gates and rush out, only to make perfect targets for the arrows; others crouched and hid behind fences and grass huts to avoid the deadly flurry of arrows.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

A dozen red-haired warriors roared loudly, attempting to command the chaotic Tribe, but the third volley of arrows came down again, turning them into porcupines!

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!..."

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

The roaring rain of arrows continued for five rounds, and the ground was soon littered with several hundred unfortunate Canine Descendants. Toltec looked at the Tribe’s camp, which had lost command and was in disarray, and sneered dismissively. He issued another command with a voice as loud as thunder.

"Vanguard, launch and charge!"

"Roar! Chief Divine protect us! Kill!"

Two thousand Tekos Barbarians let out excited shouts, growling as they charged forward.

As members of the Royal Family’s forbidden army, these Barbarian mercenaries were meticulously selected from captives taken in western campaigns and Tribes that had surrendered. They were always agile and ferocious, skilled in close combat and throwing, and after converting to the Chief Divine, they regarded life and death with indifference. They were also the best vanguard for close combat, capable of throwing dangerous Clay Tribulus during sieges. Of course, attacking a small Tribal camp did not require the use of difficult-to-transport explosive weapons.

At that moment, the Barbarian vanguard wore Mexica green cotton armor, donned sturdy vine hats, held a sharp Copper Spears in one hand, and two inexpensive Obsidian javelins in the other. Their movements were extremely fast, and they quickly closed to within twenty paces of the camp. Hidden Tribal Huntsmen started to pop up, shooting sparse arrows. The vanguard accelerated their run while raising their arms, returning fire with accurate javelins.

"Whizz, whizz, whizz!"

At a distance of ten paces, the power of the javelins was immense! The thrown javelins pierced directly through the gaps in the fence, transfixing Hunters who were desperately resisting in their chests and bellies, nailing them to the ground and eliciting unhuman-like agonized howls!

Soon after, the intense "thump thump" of chopping wood rang out. The leading Vanguard Samurai took out their Bronze Axes and hacked vigorously at the fence and camp gates. The Barbarians behind them threw ropes, snagging the broken camp gates, and then pulled together.

"Crack...crunch!"

The wood broke with a sharp "crack," and the camp gates burst open! The Vanguard Samurai swung their axes again, and the red hedgehog flag was cut down the middle, falling to the ground and trampled under the feet of the warriors. The sacred totem fell, no longer able to protect the Tribe! The Canine Descendants immediately let out cries of despair.

"Roar, roar, kill!"

Hundreds of Mexica green figures roared excitedly and ferociously stormed into the fort. They thrust their Copper Spears without mercy, striking with full force, and quickly advanced from the entrance of the camp to the central chief’s longhouse of the Tribe!

Over a hundred Canine Warriors swung their Stone Hammers and Wooden Shields, resisting valiantly in front of the longhouse, but they were repeatedly pierced by the encircling Copper Spears. Soon, a fierce red-haired warrior let out a terrible scream, clutching the bloody hole in his chest, and collapsed onto his back.

"Red Mouse Chieftain!"

The Canine Descendants shouted in panic, losing their last bit of morale. They dropped their weapons one by one, kneeling before the formidable enemy, giving up all struggle and leaving themselves to fate.

Beneath the hill, Toltec laughed heartily, as victory was so easy before an excellent Commander-in-Chief! Then, he looked back at the camp and frowned.

Black Wolf, the Commander-in-Chief, called over a trusted aide and gave a few orders. The trusted aide nodded and led a large troop of warriors and the accompanying War Priests forward.

After a while, the slaughter in the camp finally ceased completely. The Vanguard of the Barbarians, covered in blood, escorted the able-bodied captives who could still walk and filed out of the camp. The Priests, with benevolent expressions, soothed the frightened and fearful Canine Descendants and had the Samurai take the children away.

In the wailing camp, the Samurai searched briefly before turning back to report to the Commander-in-Chief.

As expected, this ordinary Canine Tribe, despite having nearly two thousand people, was so poor that they rattled. The storage tent didn’t even have a rat; there were only a dozen or so bags of grain, barely enough to keep two thousand people alive until the harvest. Then there was tree bark, grass roots, cactuses, agaves, various insects, rat meat, some dubious dried meat, and a few baskets of strange medicinal herbs. The only valuable items were a few bundles of furs in the back, ranging from mouse to bear pelts.

"These impoverished Canine Descendants!... After a battle, they can’t even recoup the cost of the arrows."

Looking at the spartan loot, Toltec shook his head. He coldly waved his hand, and the Barbarian soldiers, ignoring the low wails on the ground, swung their torches and set fire to the longhouses, thatched huts, and tents.

Soon, the encampment on the hillside became a sea of flames. Black, thick smoke rose violently, erasing all traces. The wails gradually ceased, and even the wind grew quiet, leaving only the fields below the hill still nurturing hopes of harvest.

From the start of the encirclement to the end of the scavenging, the battle lasted about an hour. The attacking camp lost just over a dozen men and wounded a few dozen, and had utterly destroyed the encampment of two thousand Canine Descendants, capturing a thousand prisoners.

Black Wolf glanced over the captured prisoners, all young and strong men and women from the Canine Descendants. The Mexica Samurai had already used sturdy hemp ropes to neatly tie them up. This kind of prisoner capture was something they had done countless times before.

"Hmm, the Guajili Tribe really has few old and weak. Sent to the south, they would be suitable as slaves for agriculture. The Nobility and Samurai have been granted so much land, at last, they will have able-bodied serfs!"

With this thought, Toltec nodded in satisfaction. He looked at his trusted aide beside him and ordered resolutely.

"Tupa, take two hundred men! Escort these able-bodied prisoners back to Mespa. And tell him to arrange for transportation to the rear army camp, so that His Highness can review them! His Highness likes young and sturdy serfs most!"

"At your command! Chief, shall we wait for General Mespa? He has three thousand Samurai..."

"Wait for what? Raiding Canine Tribes has to be fast! We must wipe out as many as possible before the rats can react. Who knows where they’ll hole up next? I don’t have the time to chase after rats all over the mountains. The Pamus Samurai lack discipline and move too slowly. We only need to take a few Scouts as guides for the legion, and the rest can stay behind to slowly take in the prisoners!"

Black Wolf waved his hand grandly. Then, he determined the direction and signaled with his command flag toward the northwest.

"All troops, rest for a quarter of an hour! We march on to the next tribe before nightfall!"

"Roar!"

The roar of the Samurai instantly rose over the wilderness, drowning out a low bark hidden in the bushes.

"Awooo! He saw us, he’s waving flags at us!"

Ivican raised his head in terror and let out a low cry, almost ready to turn and run immediately.

"Shut your dog mouth! Ivican, they haven’t moved! Hidden two hundred steps away with vine hats on, no one can see us in the grass!"

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

Amoxtli swiftly extended his hand, pressing Ivican to the ground. Ivican shivered for a while before calming down. He widened his eyes, looking towards the burning camp with a deep sense of dread.

"Ancestors! Amoxtli, how long did they fight? The two-thousand-strong Red Mouse Tribe, just gone like that?"

"Ivican, you’ve always had better eyesight than I do, can’t you see for yourself?"

Amoxtli was equally shocked. He responded gruffly.

"Half of the Red Mouse Tribe has gone to meet the ancestors, and the other half has been captured as prisoners. They couldn’t be more finished!"

"Ah, Amoxtli, the Red Mouse Tribe is finished just like that! Why didn’t they run?"

"Run? When we just managed to survive the cold snap, common Tribes were cannibalizing each other—where would they find the food to flee? Do you think they’re all like your Red Fox Tribe? Many red-haired Warriors, plenty of plundered grain, and a cunning leader!"

"Awooo! Chief Otuwa is indeed smart, never fights a losing battle all the way!"

Hearing such an evaluation, Ivican felt some pride. He nodded in agreement and then whispered quietly.

"Amoxtli, we’ve seen what we needed to see, let’s hurry back to our tribe and report the intelligence to the chiefs! The Cactus Tribe is so formidable, we need to let the chiefs weigh in on what to do."

"Right! We can’t stay in the south any longer; let’s go now!"

Among the bushes, two red-haired Warriors crouched down, taking one last glance at the black smoke on the hill, then silently slipped away following the ridge’s contours. Above in the sky, several black American eagles, attracted by the scent of blood, circled down. They squawked eagerly, anticipating a more bountiful feast.