Hearing this, Shulot felt a chill in his heart. He looked coldly and glanced at the old priest Taiya indifferently.
Feeling the king's killing intent, the old priest Taiya's knees became weak and he collapsed directly to the ground, begging softly.
"Your Majesty, I, I am devoted to the kingdom, and I have no idea about Arnold's affairs!"
Shulot ignored the old priest. His face was expressionless, he suppressed the fear in his heart and sneered.
"Haha, Ashulote, there is someone like you among the dog descendants! In order to avenge Chichika, you were able to hide it from everyone and get close to me?"
Hearing this, Bertard looked ashamed. He silently clenched his bronze sword and stared at Ashulote's neck, like a jaguar about to hunt.
"Your Majesty, I, I really am not..."
Ashulote trembled all over. He felt the breath of death.
Looking at the performance of his old rival, Ozoma sneered disdainfully.
"Ha! Ashulote! Your story has been exposed, why are you still arguing? You should have died on the night when the tribe was defeated! Fortunately, you are still the chief of a large tribe in the wilderness, why don't you have the courage to die calmly?
!”
"..."
Ashulote was speechless for a moment. He was stunned for a while and sighed.
"Yes! I should have died a long time ago! So many warriors are dead, the tribe is all gone, and the leader of Chichika is also dead. Why am I still alive? That's it for now, I just want to die!"
After saying that, Ashulote looked at the old priest Taiya and nodded calmly.
"Priest Taia, I'm sorry for hiding my identity from you. I'm not Arnold, I'm Ashulote!"
Hulot looked at this scene and nodded slowly. The warrior died calmly, blooming and withering like a flower, which was most in line with the aesthetics of the Mexica people. He praised in a deep voice.
"Axiulote, you endured the humiliation and took the risk to assassinate me for the sake of tribal hatred, regardless of personal life or death. You are a respectable warrior! Since you are a warrior, I will use the etiquette of a warrior to say goodbye to you. Do you have any poems?
Leave?"
"Poetry..."
Ashulote was stunned for a while, then chanted in a low voice.
"I was a salamander trapped in a pool, suffering the pain of not being able to grow up... Then, I crawled out of the pool, losing my gills and long tail, but without the legs to walk... I was in the pool
Die on the shore, go from birth to death, and gain eternal transcendence!”
"good!"
After listening, the black wolf Toltec couldn't help but admire. Bertard smiled quietly. Xuelote lowered his eyes. In the ancient Mesoamerican mythology, the newt is freed from the imprisoned soul from birth to death.
, the process of entering a higher realm. And then, the salamander comes back from the dead and goes through the cycle of rebirth and death.
"Bertard, use the etiquette of a warrior and send him on his way!"
The warrior captain nodded, put away his bronze sword, and held the obsidian dagger he offered as a sacrifice. With a solemn look on his face, he walked up to Ashulote and put the sharp dagger on the opponent's neck, drawing a faint blood mark.
"Don't worry, it will be soon."
Bertard said softly.
Ashulote closed his eyes and waited for death. A cold sting came from the skin of his neck, and his five senses seemed to be sharpened instantly. Then, he heard a deep breath, which was the precursor of the warrior's long strength.
"Next second, I will die!"
At this moment of death, great terror suddenly struck. Ashulot's mind was shocked, as if he had fallen into a bottomless abyss. He suddenly opened his eyes, and shouted at the top of his lungs in the face of Bertard's surprised eyes.
"Your Majesty! I surrender! I am willing to serve you!"
The air suddenly became quiet. It felt like one second, you were quietly sniffing a beautiful fragrant flower, and then the next second, a buzzing fly suddenly flew out of the flower's stamens.
"Your Majesty, I am really not an assassin! I was captured and went south, and I just want to spend the rest of my life honestly. I hid in the crowd today and never thought about approaching you! And I really had no idea about the recommendation of Priest Taiya.
!...”
Ashulote tried his best to tilt his head away from the warrior captain's dagger. He prayed loudly, wailing like a mourning dove.
"...Your Majesty, I am familiar with all tribes in the wilderness, and I am willing to serve you! I, I can give you suggestions on the management of tribal villages!"
Ashurot lowered his eyes and said nothing. It was not until Ashurote finished his last sentence that he opened his eyes indifferently.
"Oh? What suggestions do you have for the governance of tribal villages?"
"Well..."
Ashulote looked at Bertard carefully, and the warrior commander calmly put away the dagger. Then, the Red Salamander chief thought quickly while answering hesitantly.
"Praise Your Majesty! Praise the Lord God! I have stayed in the tribal village for several months. Many places in the village are a mess... Ever since Your Majesty forcibly disrupted the tribes and organized the flag team, the traditional order of the wilderness has been lost.
However, the tribesmen were so panic-stricken that they never established new rules..."
As he talked, Asiulote's thoughts became much clearer. After all, he had been traveling in the wilderness for many years and had in-depth contact with the situation in the villages, so he had a thorough understanding of the people of the tribe.
"Your Majesty, after all, strength is respected in the tribe. When we were in the wilderness, each tribe had three levels: red-haired, warrior, and strong. The red-haired hunters were both the most elite warriors and the hunting captains. They actually managed the tribe.
Teams of people. Only under their command can the entire tribe move thousands of miles..."
"...Now, you have forcibly disrupted the tribes and recruited all the warriors, leaving only strong men from different tribes. The tribal villages have lost their ranks. Our Guakili tribe has always only feared the strong.
The sent priests or village chiefs cannot control them."
"Well, that makes some sense."
Shulot listened for a while and nodded in agreement. The problem in the villages of the Canine tribes now is that they have indeed lost their hierarchy and order. By deploying elites, although the kingdom has destroyed the ability of the Canine tribes to cause chaos, it has also made it difficult for them to command them.
"Ashlot, what suggestions do you have to solve this problem?"
"Your Majesty, the simplest way is to send some red-haired warriors back to the villages, and then restore the traditional order in the wasteland..."
Hearing this, Shulot shook his head. The kingdom had finally managed to extract the canine elites, and it had disrupted the traditional tribal order. How could it possibly let them go back again?
"...Your Majesty, the second way is to select warriors who are good warriors from the Cactus Tribe, send them to the tribal villages, and lead them directly!"
Hearing this, Ashurot raised his brows. The kingdom's skilled warriors were also limited and could not station too many in the village. He stared into Ashurote's eyes and asked lightly.
"You said one and two, there must be a third one."
"..."
Ashulote nodded but said nothing. He opened his eyes wide and looked at the king expectantly.
"Say it. If you say it well, I will spare your life."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Ashulote licked his dry lips and replied in a deep voice.
"Your Majesty, you have set up a flag team of 8,000 people and a small flag team of 400 people. Then under the small flag team, there will be an additional level of account."
"account?"
Shulot was thoughtful as he listened to this familiar concept.
"Yes. There are 50-100 people in a tent, and there are 15-30 tribes, which is roughly equivalent to the smallest tribe in the wilderness tribe. In a small flag team of 400 people, a leader's tent of 100 people can be set up, with four to six dozens of people.
There are about three small flag teams in a Guakili village, more than a thousand people, and hundreds of people."
Ashulote paused for a moment, silently calculating the numbers. His mathematical ability was obviously higher than that of other canine descendants.
"Then, each village must have at least three powerful elite warriors as village managers. Each of them has a large tent of a hundred people and commands four to six smaller tents. As for the leaders of the smaller tents, they can be
If you are recommended by dozens of people, it will usually be the strongest man among them."
"You mean, I will transfer some warriors and entrust them to take charge of the flag army's big tent. Then the leaders of the smaller tents will let the tribesmen fight for themselves. Through the tent level, I will actually manage the village?"
Shulot became somewhat interested. The underlying system of this tribe always gave him a strange sense of familiarity. Now, he has a small flag team of more than 150 canine descendants. Calculating, he only needs 150 senior warriors.
And it just so happened that after a northern expedition, there were almost one or two hundred senior warriors who needed to be enfeoffed.
"Your Majesty is wise!"
Ashulote bowed to the ground with difficulty. His eyes flashed, he looked at the king's expression, and said with a smile.
"This is the first suggestion, set up an account in the flag team."
"oh?"
Shulot pondered for a moment and looked at the warrior commander.
"Bertard, bring him here!"
The warrior commander nodded and brought Ashurot to the king.
"Smart Ashulote, what's your second suggestion?"
"Your Majesty, the second suggestion is to naturalize the wasteland priests. Naturalize the wasteland priests into qualified priests of the main god, and then manage the tribal villages."
Ashulote glanced at the old priest Taiya and replied in a low voice. To be honest, with old priest Taiya’s frail body and weak temperament, if he hadn’t been controlling the tribes in the village, he would have been killed by the vicious tribesmen.
He tied a sack and sank it into the lake.
"Converted Priest of the Wasteland?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Most of the wasteland priests have strong bodies, strong personalities, can jump and roar, and are good at archery or fighting. Even the old wasteland priests often have a 'spell' that they can use and can bluff tribes
The people are afraid to obey."
Speaking of this, Ashulote smiled sadly. In the wasteland, if you don't have any real ability to calm people down, how can you live to old age?
"The tribesmen always have a simple understanding. The more powerful the god is, the more powerful his priests are. If the priests of the gods are weak, how can they convince the tribesmen?"
"The more powerful the god is, the more powerful his priests are..."
Shulot raised his brows. He understood the subtext. The Guakili tribesmen believed in the strong, and their ideas were simple and pure. No matter how good the priest's theory was, it was useless. He had to be able to fight and scare people!
"Well, the kingdom is already doing the naturalization of the wasteland priest. Now it seems that it can be accelerated appropriately."
The king was somewhat satisfied, Ashulote was indeed a talent and worthy of his name.
"What about the third suggestion?"
"Well..."
Ashulote pondered for a long time, and scenes of village life flashed before his eyes, turning into words in his heart.
"Your Majesty, the third suggestion is to organize young men to hunt."
"Elaborate."
"Tens of thousands of tribes traveled thousands of miles south, and everyone was poor and poor. In the Satskars Wasteland, there were Silver Mountains in several places before. Unfortunately, no one looked at these heavy stones. I didn't expect to go south.
The tribe respects it so much..."
"...Now that the tribe is settled here, they are exposed to so many new things. The tribe likes fruits and meat, but they can't afford it; they like comfortable cotton cloth, but they can't afford it; they like convenient pottery, but they can't afford it; they like convenient pottery, but they can't afford it.
I can't even afford shiny copperware..."
"...The tribesmen can't afford anything, but they still want it. According to the tradition in the wasteland, they just steal and rob. The nearby Prepecha people are very soft, and they don't dare to come and fight after they have robbed their property.
..If it takes a long time, there will be big trouble!"
Ashulote knew in his heart that although the farmers of Prepecha were docile, their warriors were equally murderous. The Death Chief's army was not just a display. Once they really took action, rivers of blood would flow.
"That makes sense, keep talking."
Shulot listened patiently.
"The tribe is so poor that they can only find ways to get some property. Farming is just a living, and the only thing everyone can rely on is the skill of hunting. Which tribesman can't shoot an arrow and wield a spear? As long as the village organizes the tribesmen to go hunting, and there is a harvest,
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! Hearing this, Shulot fell into deep thought. Some new ideas gradually came to his mind. After a while, the king nodded.
"When the flag team is reorganized, I will arrange for the leaders of each flag team to organize hunting. The kingdom is short of slaves and slaves. After the autumn harvest, there will be a special capture team, led by a jaguar warrior, to go to the south or west. Gua
All young men from all the tribes of Gilly can join."
"Praise Your Majesty!"
Ashulote kowtowed heavily.
"I will also inform the kingdom to set up a market in the tribal gathering place to trade your hunting harvests. The market will be supervised by dedicated personnel to try to keep the transaction prices fair so that you are not deceived by profiteers."
After saying that, Xiulote asked his personal guards to write down the royal order just now. Then, he asked with a smile.
"Do you have any other suggestions?"
"Well..."
Ashulote racked his brains and reluctantly answered.
"Your Majesty, I have one last suggestion, which can temporarily appease people's hearts, especially the recruited tribal warriors."
"explain!"
"According to wasteland tradition, the tribe highly values red and is even willing to sacrifice their lives for the sacred red. If you can give the warriors red fur, red feathers, or red dye, you are the most generous chief! Of course, if you have
A red-haired woman, that’s even better!”
Hearing this, Hulot was slightly startled. He remembered that when the Spanish colonists of later generations "purchased peace" from the Chichimec descendants, they specifically listed one item: giving to hundreds of red-haired women.
"Good suggestion. There is no shortage of red fur, feathers, and dyes in the Alliance. Bertard, please record it and reward it as appropriate when you go back."
"I obey your will, Your Highness."
"Dear Your Majesty, then I..."
Ashulote knelt on the ground, looking at the king with hope in his eyes.
Shulot smiled.
"Ashlot, you have died once just now, canceling out all your guilt. The divine salamander will resurrect from the dead and then change its appearance. What do you want to do next?"
"Ah, praise your majesty! Thank you for your kindness!...I am willing to cross the river, return to the wilderness, and guard the city of Palms for you..."
"No."
"...Uh... I want to stay in the Guakili village here and be a pious village priest to spread the glory of the Lord God to you..."
"No."
"...Uh... everything is subject to His Majesty's arrangements."
"very good."
Shulot smiled and nodded, announcing the answer.
"Ashulote, from today on, you will join my personal guard and follow the king's banner."
In the cruel northern wilderness, there is no one who can mix with the chiefs of the big tribes. Ashulote has the experience of a tribal chief and has been tempered by large-scale wars. How can he be thrown into the canine group at will?
! It’s more reassuring to carry it with you.
"Praise Your Majesty!"
Ashurotfu closed his eyes and knelt on the ground, as if he had exhausted all his strength.
Two steps away, Ozoma and Koka looked at each other. They both wanted to say a lot, but neither of them said it. The old priest Taiya was kneeling alone in the corner, no one paid attention to him, and he didn't dare to say anything.
A plan that took a long time to prepare, but almost caused huge trouble.
"Priest of Taea."
"Ah! Your Majesty!"
"A new priest will come soon to take over your position."
"...I obey you, Your Majesty."
The old priest Taia fell on the ground and lost all his strength in an instant.
"You will be transferred to the Hekou Fortress and serve as a second-level preaching priest."
"Ah!...I obey you, Your Majesty!"
The old priest Taiya was shaken suddenly, and his strength suddenly recovered. He kowtowed to the ground hard, and his voice became louder.
"Well, Bertard, let's go!"
Shulot smiled calmly.
"Ashlot, you also come with me."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The king pondered for a while, and looked at Ashulote for the last time.
"Remember, you have already died once. From now on, your name will be Arnold!"
