Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 615 - 311: The Battle at the Valley Entrance (End)

The slanting sun cast its glow over the valley, which was awash with scarlet. The bone horns blared urgently, the war drums thundered, and the bloody slaughter continued unabated. The battle, along with the waning of lives, gradually reached its climax.

The vanguard barbarians fervently thrust at their enemies, completely indifferent to their own life and death. The four hundred Canine Descendants managed to resist only for a quarter of an hour before the barbarians slaughtered them all. And at close range, the hunters shot down a large number of the barbarian soldiers. Corpses piled up on the slope, even directly stacking up to the height of the palisade wall. The subsequent wave of barbarians simply charged over the bodies, engaging in a fierce melee with a new batch of Canine Warriors!

Black Wolf, with a somber face and furrowed brows, shot arrow after arrow, killing the enemies on the palisade wall.

The fighting in the rear camp had gone beyond his expectations by now, turning into a gruesome war of attrition. Sequential squads of the vanguard barbarians suffered casualties, with four middle squads down, plus one at the start, nearly half lost. More than a dozen Armored Personal Guards fell, each shot through the throat with an arrow. And then the rear line of crossbowmen took a charge, losing twenty to thirty men. In total, that’s over five hundred Imperial Guards! How was he to explain this number to his Highness? Only a more thorough victory would suffice!

Dozens of steps away, Keka’s heart was torn, watching the heavy casualties. The Aztecs held the long-range advantage, attacking with ferocity like a storm. During these two hours of fighting, the Canine Descendants could only fill the breach with their lives.

The able-bodied men called up from various Tribes, used as meat shields, had died in succession, numbering one thousand five hundred. Casualties among the ordinary warriors of the Red Frog Tribe exceeded five hundred, while even the redheaded warriors suffered a hundred losses. In total, that made over two thousand dead and wounded, of which more than six hundred were from the Red Frog Tribe itself. How many Aztecs had died? Watching the four hundred who had sallied out now caught in a hard fight, it was unclear how long they could hold. Once the enemy samurai broke into the camp, losing the support of long-range fire, the rear camp would fall!

Keka bit his teeth and clenched his fist, shouting to a red-haired trusted aide.

"Miwa, we’re almost out of levied strongmen! Take four hundred warriors from the troops of the rear camp, form a squad, and be ready to strike at any moment!"

"What?! Chieftain, we can’t do as you say! Our Red Frog Tribe in total has only two thousand warriors! A quarter are already dead, and half are holding their ground here. How can we commit the entire remaining tribe?"

"Hmm? What do you suggest? Behind us lies the valley; there’s simply no way to retreat, the warriors can’t fall back. Once we lose the palisade wall and the cactus warriors break in, the camp is finished, the valley is lost!"

"Chieftain, to surround and kill those Otomi curs, the Red Fox Tribe sent over a thousand warriors! They’ve found high ground behind the camp to watch the battle from, and they’re the elite of the Red Fox! We must drag the Red Fox Tribe into this battle one way or another!"

"Oh! The Red Fox Tribe..."

Keka’s eyes widened in annoyance as he tugged at his red hair. Then, grinding his teeth, he said.

"Tell that red-haired squad leader from the Red Fox Tribe! The Cactus Tribe’s assault is fierce; the Red Frog Tribe can barely hold on. He must bring reinforcements immediately! If there are no reinforcements in two quarters of an hour, the Red Frog Tribe will have no choice but to surrender to the Cactus Tribe!"

"What?! Chieftain, after fighting like this, how can we surrender to the Cactus Tribe? They’re in a blood rage on the other side!"

The red-haired trusted aide shook his head repeatedly. The Red Frog Chieftain glared fiercely.

"Just say it like that! That red-haired squad leader isn’t smart, lacks experience! He often goes back to the council hall to report; I’ve seen him many times. Just intimidate him, and he’ll believe!"

"As you command, Chieftain, you are wise!"

Miwa dashed towards the rear camp, with the whistling rain of arrows sweeping over his head and the thunderous shouts drifting away behind him. Soon, Miwa burst out of the camp and headed for the Red Fox banner on the hill to the west. Beneath the flag, a Red Fox squad leader was peering out at the battlefield, accompanied by another red-haired scout. Indeed, it was Ivican and Amoxtli.

The setting sun cast a faint purple hue, dyeing the sky in brilliant colors. Below the heavens, the frenzied slaughter seemed endless. Squad after squad of Cactus warriors continued to charge forward, breaking through the barricades of the Canine warriors. The vanguard barbarians roared ferociously in battle, while the Armored Personal Guards scaled the walls of the fort. In just a moment, dozens of vanguards had broken into the camp. Victory seemed as close as the twilight glow of the sunset!

Black Wolf Torc stood firm as a rock, his golden Armor Clothes pierced by dozens of Bone Arrows. He struggled to suppress his desire to charge into battle himself, instead shooting arrow after arrow at the enemies atop the walls. Behind him, the Temple crossbowmen’s fire began to thin out as they neared the end of their bolts.

"Good! Break through the valley mouth, now is the time!"

Torc’s arrows flew like lightning, once again killing a redhead. A smile of victory appeared on his lips. But in just a moment, that victorious smile froze and became unattainably distant.

The Red Fox’s banner was raised within the camp, and hundreds of Tribal Warriors poured in. Large groups of Red Fox warriors wielding War Clubs quickly overwhelmed the dozens of vanguard who had entered the camp. Then, hundreds of Red Fox Hunters raised their Hunting Bows and stepped up to the walls, firing downwards to stabilize the teetering front line.

"Whew! Red Cat, Red Frog, Red Fox, truly united as one, supporting each other like a pack of wolves!"

Black Wolf exhaled deeply. His eyes flashed with the will to fight, and he raised his Longbow once again.

"Hit the mark! ...Roar! Watch me shatter you all!"

Behind the walls, a newly arrived redhead warrior took an arrow to the forehead and fell with a scream, clearly not long for this world. A few steps away, Ivican quickly crouched down. He touched his cheek, wiped away the splashed liquid, and felt a rush of relief.

"Ao! Who is this? Standing there like a target, yet his archery is so sharp!"

"Ah? He is the Tribal Chief controlling eight thousand warriors, the Commander of the central Cactus warriors, the skilled archer Black Wolf."

Waka looked around, seeing the Cactus warriors who had broken into the camp being temporarily driven back, and he let out a slight sigh of relief.

"Ao! To think that a chieftain would be fighting on the front line!"

Ivican, still crouching, shouted in astonishment.

"Shoot him!"

"Swish swish swish!"

The piercing bolts flew out rapidly, instantly killing dozens of Red Fox warriors on the fortifications. Hearing the familiar screams, Ivican’s heart ached, and he howled loudly.

"Ao! After this battle, the chieftain is sure to flay my skin!"

"Ivican, that Black Wolf, he’s a samurai clad in thick hide!"

Arrow storms interweaved, and battle cries shook the heavens. Amoxtli crouched, observing carefully for a long while before patting Ivican on the shoulder.

"Don’t forget the way to defeat those in thick hide!"

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"Roar! Amoxtli, you said to shoot at the exposed neck, shoot at the shins and feet, hammer their heads?"

"Right. But this samurai is really skilled, always using his arm to shield his vital neck. He has armored personal guards around him for protection. We can only shoot his shins!"

"Roar! Amoxtli, are you sure?"

"...I’m not. But Ivican, you should be!"

Two red-haired warriors crouched low, grasping their bows and arrows, moving cautiously toward the stockade wall. Not far away, Cactus warriors once again charged forth, clashing violently with Red Frog and Red Fox warriors. Blood had already completely drenched the camp, the stench of blood permeating the air.

"Roar! Me?"

"Yeah. Use the greatbow you captured! We’ll split in two directions. I’ll go this way... you go that way... and we’ll shoot him like this!"

"Alright! Amoxtli, you’re so clever!"

Their low whispers scattered along the top of the wall, soon covered by the fierce battle cries. Black Wolf Torc’s face was icy, his breath light, his arrows fast as shooting stars. His gaze fixed on the camp ahead, his eyes burning like flame.

"Armored personal guards, charge once more!"

Black Wolf Torc bellowed fiercely. The personal guards around him bowed slightly, before charging fiercely down the slope.

"Swoosh!"

Suddenly, a bone arrow shot with lethal precision, aimed straight for Black Wolf’s cheek. His pupils shrank, and he tilted his head slightly. With a "thud," the bone arrow was deflected by the helmet that shielded his face, shooting off into the distance.

"Ratfish!"

Black Wolf glared furiously at the older red-haired warrior who stood defiantly with his bow aimed at him. Without hesitation, Black Wolf turned and released an arrow with a swift motion!

"Swoosh, ah!..."

The arrow from Black Wolf Torc was released without a glance at the outcome, followed by the sharp sound of the wind. He instinctively bent his body to avoid it, but then felt a sudden pain in his leg! Looking down, Black Wolf saw a copper arrow had pierced through his left leg. The copper arrow’s force had torn through his cotton armor and embedded deeply into his flesh, far surpassing the impact of a Guajili’s short bow!

"Swoosh! Swoosh!"

From atop the stockade, two sharp arrows whistled down, targeting Black Wolf Torc’s cheek and shin once again. He dodged with all his might, only to feel another pain in his right leg! With both legs injured, he could no longer stand steadily and tumbled to the ground. Soon, fine beads of sweat emerged on Black Wolf’s forehead. He struggled to stand but couldn’t muster the strength.

"Commander!"

A dozen personal guards rushed over anxiously, shielding Black Wolf with their bodies.

"Black Wolf Commander!"

At the watchtower in the front camp, Mespa’s face changed dramatically seeing Black Wolf fall to the ground. If the prince’s beloved general fell here, his fate... With that thought, Mespa reached for the conch and forcefully sounded it:

"Uuuu! All troops retreat!..."

"Uuuu! All troops retreat!"

The grating sound of the conch echoed through the valley, and the boiling battlefield paused in an instant. The vanguard warriors looked back in disbelief, only to see their commander’s vanishing figure and the retreat banner raised by General Mespa.

"Don’t... continue!..."

Black Wolf gritted his teeth, shouting through the pain, his words garbled. The personal guards hesitated but still covered their commander, pulling out the commander’s banner, and collectively retreated toward the front camp.

"Whiz, whiz, whiz!"

Crossbowmen on the temple unleashed their last bolts, fiercely suppressing the battlements to cover the vanguard camp as it retreated down the slope. The slope was littered with bodies and blood, a trail extending right in front of the crossbowmen. Drip, drip... the thick red slowly congregated in the valley track, forming puddles that submerged their ankles.

A moment later, the two armies disengaged, growing more distant. The cruel battle finally came to a complete stop, and everyone was utterly exhausted. The evening breeze blew, and the tattered Red Frog banners fluttered on the palisade. The camp was filled with bodies, and there were defending soldiers lying still as if they were corpses themselves.

In the sky, the violet sunset spread its last rays of brilliance and warmth before gradually dipping behind the mountain ridge. The mountain’s shadow spread like thick ink, gradually engulfing the entire valley. Amidst the merging purple light and darkness, flocks of American eagles swooped down. They uttered mournful cries and tore off the soft flesh of death with their sharp beaks—a feast long awaited.

As the sunset faded, darkness engulfed the two camps. The camp, like a wounded beast, lay in the shadows of night, silently licking its wounds. Moments later, scattered campfires ignited within the encampments. The flickering lights, distant from one another, resembled the half-closed eyes of a predator.