The light clouds dispersed, the midday sun shone brightly, and the sky in the mountain city returned to tranquility. The frightened songbirds gathered again and sang loudly in the world above their heads, just like the distant sounds from the Kingdom of God.
Black Wolf's royal flag is flying high among the birds and is erected in the tribal square in the center of the mountain city. The mountain city has a long history, and the buildings in the city still retain many of the features of the tribal era. In the center of the tribal square is a huge fire pit, blazing
The bonfire changes in the wind, burning red light, blazing heat and green smoke. Not far from the square in the east, there is a thick earthen platform surrounded by bluestones. Various flying curtain flags are planted on the earthen platform, and under the earthen platform,
Buried are the ashes and relics of more than ten generations of mountain city leaders.
At this moment, hundreds of tribal leaders and noble warriors were sitting in a circle around the fire pit. Shulot, with dozens of personal guards, was sitting in the east where the sun was rising. Behind him were the tombs of the ancestors of the Otomi people.
.
The sun brings new life, and the earth tolerates death. New life and death are eternal images in Mesoamerican culture. In the past hundreds of years, the Otomi people discussed matters, gathered, ate, sang and danced, and held religious ceremonies in the square.
Even trysts between men and women. All this takes place under the gaze of the ancestors, just like today's chief election.
The tribal leaders gathered in a circle. They looked at the two regiment commanders in the center, in front of the fire pit, with different eyes.
Giovar wore a cane hat with feathers on his head, extremely heavy cotton armor, and a protective robe. At this moment, he was holding a sharp war stick and an expensive copper ax on his waist, holding his head high.
Look at the opponent in front of you.
"Nelpa, give up, you don't have any chance! You are the warrior leader of the tribe who is good at fighting. Your bravery should be used on the battlefield, not here!"
"Giowa, although I don't understand the governance of the city-state, I have the heart of an Otomi!"
Nelpa also holds a war stick and is fully armed. He is about thirty years old, younger, strong, and an extremely outstanding warrior. On both sides of his cheeks, there are several pattern-like scars, like butterflies spreading their wings.
.This gradually increasing pattern is a symbol of the warrior's achievements, similar to the records of killing ten people and killing twenty people.
"Priest Saka is right. Under your Otomi appearance, you already have a Mexica heart!"
Nerpa looked at the black wolf's royal flag in the east of the square, and at His Highness Mexica sitting in front of the tomb of his ancestors, with anger in his eyes.
"Giowa, for the sake of the independent future of the Otomi people, I must stop you and the Ort priest from traveling on the wrong path!"
"Nerpa, your soul is lost in the mountains and forests, shrouded in fog, and you are no longer able to communicate. Then follow the tribe's tradition and let the tribe leaders decide!"
Giowa frowned, looked at the warriors brainwashed by the Saka priests, and shook his head helplessly. Then, he looked at the tribal leaders sitting around the field, and the final election was right in front of him.
“Praise the Lord God!”
Hulot stood up and walked towards the center of the square. Behind him were the warrior chief and the black wolf who followed closely. Under the awe-inspiring eyes of everyone, the king walked up to Giowa and raised the magic staff in his hand.
"Before the tribal election, I want to inform all leaders that I come with legion and goodwill!"
The king's eyes were as sharp as an eagle's, sweeping over everyone present. The leaders bowed their heads one after another to show respect.
"My goodwill is only given to people I trust! Giowa is my blood-blooded younger brother. He once risked his life and fought for me! I will give him protection throughout his life. If he becomes the leader of the mountain city
, I will represent the powerful alliance and protect the ancestral land of the Otomi people!"
There was a low discussion in the square. Saka looked solemn and immediately stood up from the ground and shouted to the leaders present.
"Chiefs of the Otomi people! Please don't forget the wars and famines of the past, and forget what the Mexica people have done to us! They respect the god of war and are cruel and greedy beasts. They are constantly looking for sacrifices, and in their belly
Their hunger can never be quelled! Now, they are once again extending their claws to the ancestral homeland of the mountain city and to the necks of millions of Otomi people!..."
After hearing the words of the Saka priest, the discussion became slightly louder. Some leaders showed hesitation, but most of the tribal leaders had flashing expressions and were unmoved. If they can control the tribe and the lives of thousands of people, they will not
Like a low-level warrior, he is easily inspired by hateful words.
"My children! The dog descendants are going south, and the Otomi people are in crisis! Most of the northern Parmus State has fallen, and the barbarians have settled in our homeland. The war continues, and today's spring plowing will be delayed a lot. New
Famine is here!”
The old priest of Alter looked solemn, stood up, and shouted loudly.
"The Otomi people need warriors who are good at fighting, and they also need food to tide over the difficulties! At this moment of survival, the ancestral gods give us the light to protect us! The Lake Kingdom in the south is our reliable friend. And His Highness Shulot is
The Sun of the Otomi!..."
The words of the old priest spread far and wide, and the tribal leaders fell silent for a moment, and then let out a low cry. The name "sun" is not used lightly, because in the concepts of all tribes in the world, the sun is supreme and is the master who rules the world. And to call a person
Being the sun often means surrender!
The disorderly noise lasted for a while and then gradually became quiet. A chief from Parmus State stood up first. He bowed respectfully to the king, and then spoke urgently on behalf of the Otomi tribe in the north.
"Dear Your Highness Mexica, Mespa from Palm State salutes you! The beasts in the jungle obey the strong, and the Otomi people in the north need your protection! As long as you can send your legions northward, we are willing to pay tribute to you.
You surrender and fight under your banner!"
Xiuluo nodded and smiled calmly. He looked around the venue again, then lowered his staff and struck a "ding dong" with the end of it.
This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! "The light of the main god also shines on the Otomi people! However, the blessing of the gods requires pious dedication, and the gift of fate has already marked the price! The Otomi people,
I come with the king’s goodwill, and I am waiting for your goodwill!”
The tribal leaders looked at each other for a while, and then another middle-aged chief from Guamare State stood up.
"Praise the God of War! Your Highness, we are in awe of your courage to enter the city, obey your divine authority, and believe in the choice of the Ort priests! Destiny is like a turbulent river. We approach Him with our shadows, and we must always
Keep your legs submerged in the water. But..."
Having said this, the middle-aged chief paused and looked at the king cautiously.
"There are endless canine descendants in the wasteland. The north of the plateau is always barren, and the far north is a desert. The Otomi people can only fight, build cities and farm land! We don't have the property of the southern tribes, nor do we have the rich rainforest.
Output. We are eager for your help, but what can we give in exchange?"
Hearing this implicitly critical question, Shulot's eyes became dark.
"I am a generous king. I will not interfere with the small population that you can feed, nor will I covet the fields that you can cultivate, nor will I seek control of the mountain city. Each tribe of the Otomi people will elect their own leaders and inherit the glory of their ancestors.
...However, you must bathe in the light of the Lord God and accept the divine guidance! You must gather under my banner and fight for the divine will! You must fight with loyalty and fearlessness in exchange for the wealth and glory of rewards!
..."
He was full of profound meaning and continued with a smile.
"Of course, the basis of all this is our mutual trust and the leader election before us!"
Hearing this, the middle-aged chief nodded with understanding. He bowed his head solemnly and saluted.
"Your Highness, I greet you. I am Chalki from Guamarebon, please remember my name..."
"Okay! The sun has risen to its highest point, and the ancestor gods are watching the earth. Now, let the election begin!"
The bone trumpet was playing, and an old female voice sounded, just like the tribal era thousands of years ago. The old priest took a step forward and raised the staff in his hand. The Saka priest opposite, his face livid, also took a step forward. The former leader O
Kuili's wife walked into the middle of the venue, walked between the two group leaders, and continued to shout in a sharp voice.
"Chiefs, the Ancestral God is watching us! According to the traditional practice, use your feet to follow the person you choose! Those who support Nerpa, stand behind the Saka priest. Those who support Giowa, stand behind the Ort priest.
After death!...The ancestors witnessed everything, and each tribe must abide by the resolution of the tribal meeting. No matter what the outcome, the Otomi people must not be divided!..."
The Otomi leaders looked at each other for a moment, stood up silently, and voted with their feet. Chief Mespa was the first to stand up and walked behind the Oort priest, followed by many leaders of Parmus State. Then Chalki
The chief nodded to the old priest, and followed closely with the leaders of Guamare State. A dispute broke out among the leaders of Otopan State, and finally broke up. Thirty percent of them went to the Saka priest.
, 70% came behind Alter.
The final result is clear at a glance. The old priest straightened his back and was surrounded by a large black mass behind him; Saka looked gloomy and there were only a few twenty or thirty people behind him. Nearly 90% of the Otomi leaders finally chose to support Giowa and become the ancestor.
The military leader of Dishan City and the nominal talker of the Otomi Alliance!
"The ancestors witnessed in the grave that a new leader has been born! The tribal meeting decided that the leader of the ancestral land in the mountain city and the heir to the ancestral scepter is..."
The old female voice sounded again, but was suddenly interrupted by a loud roar.
"The ancestors and gods witness! Giowa, you traitor to the tribe!"
Seeing that the situation in front of him was irreversible, Nelpa gritted his teeth, with a will to die on his face. He suddenly raised his war stick and roared loudly.
"I swear with the dignity of a warrior and with equal honorary status, I challenge you to a sacred battle! The graves of our ancestors are also our graves. I will fight with you until the death!"
"Nelpa, are you crazy? You risked your life to fight with me?"
Giowa looked surprised, even a little bit incredulous. He looked at the determined middle-aged warrior in front of him as if he were looking at a stubborn stone.
Even if he fails to participate in the tribal election, Nerpa is still a powerful tribal leader with a distinguished status. He has thousands of warriors in his hands and has no fear of his life. However, the sacred fight to the death is only carried out between two parties of equal status, and it will inevitably end in the end.
It ends when one party falls. Although this is an ancient tradition for resolving major conflicts in the tribe and a martial custom left over from the tribal era, it has not happened among the leaders for many years.
"Giowa, if you are a coward who is afraid of fighting, please step down from your position as leader! Only a leader who is not afraid of life and death can lead the Otomi people to life!"
Hearing this, Giowa looked at the leaders present and frowned deeply. Among the tribes on the plateau that advocate bravery, cowardice is the most despicable insult. Having said this, although he
He has the power to reject Nelpa's challenge, but it will leave a lifelong stain. How can he convince the public in the future? What's more... Giowa narrowed his narrow eyes, stretched out his hand to press the robe around his waist, and then relaxed his brows.
"Nelpa, since you are bent on seeking death, then come on!"
