The sun rose and the moon set, and the wind carried a moist breath. Shulot led the warriors to trek west for two days, and finally returned to Otopan's siege camp.
At this time, the dark clouds from the east had quietly arrived, covering the clear sky. And the first drizzle in several months fell silently. Although this timely spring rain dropped precious seeds for spring plowing,
The heavy rain left a damp shadow in the hearts of the warriors: the rainy season is approaching.
As soon as he returned to the camp, Shulot immediately found Avitt and talked to him about the ambush on the road. Then the two of them went to report the military situation to Totec. The cold-hearted commander-in-chief looked at the captured weapons with a stone face.
Bronze spears, bronze arrows, and long wooden bows nodded solemnly and slowly.
"Witness the Lord God! The damn Otomi people must have been supported by the Tarascos and Tlaxcalas for being able to persist for so long. This is a very crucial piece of information! And those remaining tribes in the mountains and forests,
On the contrary, it is not a big deal... Next, while the main force of the alliance is trapped under the mountain city, the powerful enemies on the east and west sides of the alliance are very likely to participate in the war in person... I will report it to the king! It is time to consider the possibility of withdrawing our troops.
..”
After saying this, Totec turned around again, patted Xilot on the shoulder hard, and admonished.
"God bless you! Bring more warriors with you next time you go out... You are a priest, not a warrior!"
After saying this, Totec turned around and left solemnly. And that night, Tisok's angry scolding sounded in the king's tent.
Seven months have passed since the siege of the city in September last year, and nearly 4,000 of the 50,000 elite warriors were killed. During this period, there was not a glorious battle involving tens of thousands of people, but only continuous guerrilla fighting.
Food poisoning, illness, and a failed siege.
Among the 60,000 militiamen in the camp and behind, there were also 6,000 or 7,000 casualties. Most of the losses were caused by the transportation in the mountains and the continued guerrillas of the Otomi people. Although the militiamen on the opposite side also suffered heavy casualties, those of those tribes
The militiamen are all wasted firewood. Only by killing the Otomi warriors can the opponent's resistance be completely defeated.
During this seven-month war, due to the lack of food, the army did not capture many prisoners, and only more than 2,000 Otopan warriors were killed, of which 1,000 were fish caught under the city of Guamare. As for the large number of civilians
The killing is actually meaningless to the glory of the alliance and the majesty of the king.
The huge casualties made the city-state legions resentful, and the minimal results made the direct warriors demoralized. These greatly reduced the king's popularity, and Tisok's prestige was at the bottom. He urgently needed this siege.
Victory, use the fall of the city of Otopan to prove the king's correct judgment... He needs to conquer the great cause of the Otomi people to restore the king's prestige!
Seeing that there are only about five months of food left in the city of Otopan, the dawn of victory is clearly visible. At this time, no matter what signs of danger there are, the king will not give up easily. Moreover, Otomi
The long wooden bows and copper weapons in human hands cannot really prove anything. The pious king would rather believe that this is a coincidence, that they were purchased by the Otomi people from merchants in various tribes.
This cruel war is like a gambling table, too many chips have been staked. In the coronation war about rule, the usually rational king also has a hint of madness. Although the commander-in-chief Totec can see clearly
The situation of the war was helpless in the face of the king's persistence.
The commander-in-chief could only make a terrible face and ordered the scouts to be sent farther to monitor the movements of the Tarasco people on the south coast at all times. As for the Tlaxcalans, the eastern Mexica city-states still have tens of thousands of warriors and militiamen.
Sufficient to deal with small-scale wars.
The bloody war never shifts to the will of one party. It is a game between two or more parties. The dominant Mexica army wants a glorious victory, while the weak Otomi nobles avoid the mountain city at all costs.
fall, and their own death. In this confrontation, the lives of civilians are like falling leaves. When the wind blows, they rustle down and easily fall into the soil, falling all over the mountain.
After returning to the camp, Shulot finally slept peacefully for two days. He could store the battles and sacrifices of the previous two days in his heart, just like burying the nutrients for growth. But that night, the mountain city in the distance suddenly became a piece of cake.
The noises and shouts accompanied by the vague crowd were like fallen leaves falling down, sweeping towards the Mexica siege camp.
"Blessed by the original god! Kill the Mexica people and avenge the tribe!..."
"Rush! Rush through the Mexica camp and return to our home in the mountains!..."
The cry of killing suddenly rang out, and Hulot immediately woke up and grabbed the long dagger under the straw bed. He climbed up with the dagger, put on a robe, and looked at Bertard who had already picked up the war stick.
The two men immediately put on their armor, hurriedly gathered the warriors who were following them, and then came to the front camp to garrison.
Standing on the high platform of the front camp, through the bonfire at the edge of the camp, Shulot could see the crowd approaching from a distance, and he felt a trace of doubt in his heart.
A night attack is a highly organized tactical operation, and only the most elite warriors can do it. The Otomi people attacking in front of them appear to be large in number from a distance, but they carry scattered torches and move inconsistently. From time to time, there are
The torches were scattered in other directions, and some even turned back up the mountain. The sound filled the sky, and there were faint cries floating in the wind, and the cries were mixed with the screams of women.
It wasn't until the crowd rushed closer that Shulot realized something, and then a ball of anger surged into his heart. And he looked at the fighting battlefield for a moment, and there was some unspeakable sadness in his heart. At this moment, the cold and indifferent death,
Blowing through tens of thousands of "fallen leaves" is like the ordinary night wind in autumn, blowing through the red and yellow maples all over the mountains and plains.
In addition to the dozens of Otomi civilian warriors in the lead, behind them were all the old, weak, women and children with no clothes on. Some of them were old, some were young, some were hopeful, some were desperate, some were hesitant, and some were crazy. They
There was only a wooden stick in his hand, which was driven forward by the noble warriors at the rear, like firewood thrown into a campfire.
Shulot saw a rickety old woman, her head lowered and her face bent, and her face could not be seen clearly. She was just staggering and walking forward with a wooden stick. The crowd behind her was constantly coming, and suddenly someone squeezed her.
, she immediately fell to the ground, with wooden sticks scattered beside her. The crowd's feet stepped on her, and her skinny body never got up again.
These weak civilians were just holding a wooden stick, madly and desperately, rushing towards the gaps in the camp, desperately rushing towards the forest behind the camp, where they imagined a way to survive. However, the Mexican warriors were already ready.
, guarding the camp under siege. The elite warriors held shields and raised sticks, pulling out a tightly sealed killing front to prevent any life from escaping.
As a result, Shulot saw countless "moths" throwing themselves into the blazing fire and turning into countless tragic "flutters". The dozens of civilian warriors at the front let out desperate howls and charged desperately toward the formidable fire.
Battle formation. They hit the shield, and then were hit by the obsidian war club that arrived first. Then the leather armor cracked, the bones broke, and the whole body twisted and fell.
Then there were countless Otomi civilians. They weakly used wooden sticks to hit the shields, leather armor, or another civilian blocking the way. Everyone surged toward the rocks in front like waves, and then the waves
Scattered and scattered, the rocks were unscathed. Only thin, tattered bodies were left, falling weakly to the ground, like strings of berries that leaked red juice after being trampled.
The warriors of the alliance swung their weapons coldly, breaking necks and breaking spines with war clubs. The sharp obsidian edges were like sharp blades, cutting and tearing limbs that were not protected by leather armor, and blood spattered and stained the ground in front of the camp.
soil.
Shulot saw a young militiaman holding a simple wooden shield in the crowd, trying to protect the women and children behind him. However, the crowd soon came to an end and hit the dense "rock". The "rock" was raised.
The war stick came down from the side with a powerful swing, bypassing the simple wooden shield, and hit his back hard.
The young militiaman immediately straightened his body, raised his head and jerked it back, like a broken piece of wood. He looked back one last time, and then fell silently. When Shulot looked back, the child had disappeared under the feet of the crowd.
, the woman screamed crazily, threw herself at her husband's body, and then a war stick fell head-on.
Shulot lowered his eyes, his face expressionless, and did not continue to watch the burning of the "moth". Totec, who was also standing on the high platform, frowned. He had already judged the essence of this "night attack".
Immediately, Totec called out two thousand warriors and asked them to put down their war clubs and replace them with sharp obsidian short spears. Then the two thousand warriors moved forward ferociously, stabbing the incoming Otomi civilians mercilessly. The spears
The tip penetrated the soft chest and abdomen, and the civilians fell down in a neat row like thatch, and then the crowd behind them squeezed in another row, and so on. To deal with these living creatures with neither armor nor attack power, short spears are better than
War sticks have higher killing efficiency and are more labor-saving.
The war stick warriors in front came back to rest, wiping off their leather armor stained with blood and flesh, and replacing the worn war stick sharp blades.
A steady stream of civilians put out the fire, which "burned" for three or four hours. The fresh lives turned into broken arms and limbs all over the ground, and the ground was covered in red. Until the first ray of dawn rose, civilians were seen.
They were almost exhausted, and the noble warriors who were driven from the top of the mountain to the mountainside nodded to each other and retreated to the castle on the mountain.
The cruel war made the Otomi nobles go crazy. They abandoned all "encumbrances" just to last longer.
Soon, the morning sun lit up the red sky, and the morning light filled the bloody earth. The castle on the top of the mountain shone with light, and the camp at the foot of the mountain was filled with murderous intent. The warriors on both sides looked at each other across the mountains. Everything seemed to have remained unchanged, except for the middle
Dazzling bright red.
At dawn, the Mexica warriors poured out of the camp and formed a torrent that surrounded the entire mountain city. The scouts quickly captured many civilians who were struggling to escape in the steep north of the mountain city. They were also driven,
In the dark night, people jump off the undulating cliffs, turning into corpses and surviving injured all over the ground. However, there are always only a handful of people who can really escape.
The scouts counted the dead and injured all over the mountain, and roughly estimated the number to be between ten and twenty thousand, of which only a very small number were civilian warriors who volunteered to die and militiamen who protected their families. According to intelligence, Otopan Mountain City plus the surrounding
There used to be more than 10,000 warriors, 20,000 to 30,000 militiamen, and the same number of old and weak people in the stronghold of the city. But now, less than half of the people are left in the city, and most of them are soldiers and men.
In other words, after abandoning the old and weak, the Otopan Mountain City can hold on for "just" two or three more months. The premise is that such a "night attack" that abandons the excess population will not happen again.
In the big tent, Shulot lowered his head slightly and had a clearer understanding of the cruelty of the Otopan nobles. In this era, only high-ranking gods, priests, and warriors holding weapons are considered "human beings". And others
The tribal people are as lowly as ants in the dust and are not "human".
"Damn it! Damn it! When the mountain city of Otopan is captured, I will sacrifice all the Otomi people to the gods!!... Come on! Cut off the heads of all the captives and build them under the mountain city.
, built into a hill!..."
King Tisok smashed the obsidian staff in his hand in anger. Then, he roared and asked the warriors to behead all the prisoners and build them under the city of Otopan. This was the first time that Shulot saw the king lose his temper.
The surrounding generals looked serious and remained silent. They exchanged looks and expressions with each other, and occasionally some nodded slightly.
There is no doubt that this "night attack" dealt a heavy blow to the morale of the armies of both sides. The besieged nobles of Otomi still firmly controlled the city of Otopan, relying on their warriors. While the Mexicans outside the besieged city
However, the king of Canada was no longer able to effectively control the city-state army camp. The voice of withdrawing troops began to spread secretly, and everyone had lost confidence in capturing the city of Otopan.
After walking out of the camp, Shulot looked at the sky in the distance. Continuous clouds were coming from the sky again, the dark curtain slowly approached, and there was another light rain. Then, he looked towards the distance of the camp. Under the command of the warriors,
, the militiamen were cleaning up the corpses on the ground, building the heads into a temple, and then throwing the remaining parts into a huge pit. And the place buried in the pit will be filled with extremely lush flowers next year.
The continuous drizzle can wash away the bright red color of the earth. The buried pits can also cover up the traces of death. But, can they calm the madness of people's hearts?
Thinking of this, Shulot laughed at himself and shook his head.
"War makes people crazy, I have to be careful." He said to himself.