Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 622 - 318: Surrender

"Your Highness, an envoy from the Red Frog Tribe has arrived, seeking an audience with you. He is currently waiting in the main camp!"

The night was dim, the sky filled with stars, and the valley’s entrance camp was lit by fire. Balda, clad in eagle warrior attire, strode into the medical tent and reported to His Highness. He stole a glance around and saw only two people in the tent. His Highness stood in the center, his expression stern, his face showing barely contained anger. Black Wolf Torc lay on a straw bed, his face full of shame, having clearly just been scolded harshly. Seeing this, Balda smirked slightly and chuckled to himself.

"An envoy from the Red Frog Tribe? Coming at night?... Hmm."

Xiulote paused to think for a moment and then slightly nodded, once again looking at the ashamed Black Wolf.

He had just dismissed everyone else to scold Torc alone. As a Legion Commander, how could he recklessly charge to the frontline, gambling with life and death? Regarding the forceful attack at the valley entrance and the loss of eight hundred Imperial Guards, it was merely a matter of being too fierce in battle and needed some pointers. Now, since Balda was present, it would be inappropriate to continue scolding so harshly to prevent his beloved warrior from becoming a laughing stock among the others. In fact, a great general should not be humiliated in front of others, or else it would be like the enemy is in Honnoji...

The King’s anger subsided as he looked at his trusted aide and grasped his hair.

"Torc, my Black Wolf! On your recent expedition north, you were courageous and excelled in battle, breaking through enemy camps and earning many merits! The Central Legion struck through the wilderness like Jaguars, showing the Guajili Canine Descendants the might of the Alliance... However, a blade too sharp is easily broken; a cornstalk too tall bears little fruit. The same applies to warfare, where fierceness must be balanced with gentleness, and battles demand consideration of timing and circumstances. You must not rush too hastily..."

"Rest well! Black Wolf, I will send you a scroll of my marching notes with some insights from last year’s campaign to the west. Take this opportunity while you recover to read and reflect slowly. This injury is not necessarily a bad thing... Hmm, once you have recovered, I will let you lead the legion again!"

"Ah, Your Highness! I am willing to die for you!"

Overcome with emotion, Torc turned over, prostrating himself before His Highness.

Xiulote smiled, patted Black Wolf on the shoulder, and then turned to leave. Balda, envious, cast a glance at Black Wolf and followed His Highness out.

Starlight fell on the nearby mountains, and a melancholy song lingered in the wind. The King paused in front of the large tent, looking towards the distant Red Fox Valley, before finally entering through the tent flaps.

In the tent, eight trusted aides, solemn and draped in Copper Armor, stood guard. In the corner was the envoy from the Red Frog Tribe, who had been waiting for a long time. Xiulote looked at the envoy, who was short and stout with a rough face. Though he tried to squeeze out a smile, he couldn’t hide the aura of combativeness.

The King surveyed the envoy and then calmly sat at the head of the tent. Balda, holding his weapon, stood guard on either side. The tent was quiet, filled with a solemn murderous intent.

After a long while, the envoy from the Red Frog Tribe could no longer restrain himself. He reverently looked at Xiulote and cautiously spoke.

"Ahem... Respected God of Death, Great Chief! Your mana is as boundless as the sky, your warriors numerous and brave like the mountains. The Red Frog Tribe, along with twenty thousand Tribesmen from the valley, wish to honor you as the supreme Great Chief and fight under your banner!"

"Oh? The Red Frog Tribe wants to surrender?"

Xiulote’s expression remained calm, his voice deep.

"Then hand over all your weapons and come out from your mountain camps to accept your fate."

"Surrender... no, I have come to negotiate! God of Death, Chief, there are still twenty thousand valiant Guajili people in the valley! We also have camps on both the eastern and western mountain sides! Our crops have been harvested and can sustain us for months!"

The envoy from the Red Frog Tribe widened his eyes, speaking vehemently.

"Although the Cactus Tribe is brave, to take the valley, you would have to suffer thousands of casualties! In the East, in Pamus City, we still have tens of thousands of reinforcements soon to arrive! When they do, we will strike from both inside and out, and it will be you who falls!"

"Oh? Then go back, tell the Red Frog Chieftain. He can continue to hold the valley! Tomorrow the army will attack, and I want to see how long he can hold out."

Xiulote glanced at the fiercely growling envoy and shook his head slightly. After all, being a Canine Descendant, this peace-seeking envoy was as rigid as a warrior, utterly unqualified.

The envoy from the Red Frog Tribe faltered in his words, unable to speak for a while. Only after some time did he manage to bow his head, reluctantly.

"God of Death Great Chief, as long as you spare the Red Frog Tribe and allow the Red Frog Chieftain to continue leading this tribe, we will hand over the camps and the valley, and surrender with more than twenty thousand of the Guajili Tribe to you!"

"Oh? Spare the Red Frog Tribe, and continue as Chieftain?"

Xiulote smiled faintly.

"How many people are in the main part of the Red Frog Tribe, and how many able-bodied individuals do you wish to retain?"

"Seven thousand... no, just six thousand able-bodied individuals! The other more than ten Tribes, sixteen or seventeen thousand people, will all be at your disposal! Moreover, the Red Frog Chieftain will also lead the warriors of this tribe to fight for you!"

"Six thousand able-bodied individuals... sixteen or seventeen thousand Tribes..."

The King became serious and pondered slightly before asking again.

"The main part of the Red Frog Chieftain has only six thousand; how can it decide for more than twenty thousand Tribes? There are three Great Tribes in the valley. The Red Fox Tribe has fled, the Red Frog Tribe wants to surrender, so what does the Red Cat Tribe plan to do?"

"God of Death Great Chief, our Red Frog Tribe now controls the valley with several thousand warriors! Whatever the Red Cat Tribe plans, it is inconsequential."

The Red Frog Envoy straightened his back, his face confident.

"The camps at the east and west valley entrances are in our hands. Just by relinquishing the camps and the Red Frog Tribe taking the lead in submission, other Tribes will have no choice but to surrender as well!"

"Hmm..."

Xiulote looked at the Red Frog Envoy with interest again.

"Retaining six thousand able-bodied individuals is somewhat too many, better I take them myself!"

"Five thousand able-bodied people... no, just four thousand!"

The Red Frog Envoy’s eyes widened as he shouted anxiously.

"The Red Frog Tribe only asks to preserve four thousand able-bodied individuals. We will hand over the valley, return north to the Wilderness, and no longer raid to the south! God of Death Great Chief, we will also submit to you and fight under your banner!"

"Oh?"

Xiulote smiled faintly. He looked at the anxious Red Frog Envoy and said with a smile.

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"The Red Frog Tribe’s surrender, sparing four thousand able-bodied individuals. This condition is acceptable. However, with the Red Frog Chieftain leading the charge south, he must accept punishment! Tell the Red Frog Tribe, hand over the chieftain’s head, hand over the camps and the valley, and they may return to the Wilderness!"

"How could this be possible! How could the Red Frog Chieftain die!"

The Red Frog Envoy immediately stood erect, hopping anxiously.

"Great Chief, the Red Frog Chieftain is brave and good in battle, willing to die for you!"

"Oh?"

The smile on Xiulote’s face grew more intense.