Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 602 - 298: The Vast Northern Land

The afternoon sun pierced through the post-rain clouds, casting its light on the damp wilderness and causing a faint mist to rise. The summers on the northern highlands were always dry, with no accumulation of vegetation, so the soil’s surface moisture could seldom be preserved for long. And water sources were the most precious resource.

Only where streams and springs flowed could crops be planted and tribal populations supported, allowing passage for large-scale armies. For a thousand years, the battles in the north revolved around water sources. Blood nurtured the fertile soil by the rivers and made the rare greenery all the more vibrant.

Thousands of Mexica legionnaires marched across the arid land, kicking up plumes of dust visible from afar. The lofty Wolf Banner fluttered at the center of the formation, and Xiulote, clad in sturdy Medium Armor, proceeded forward, guarded by his Copper Armor-clad personal army. He surveyed his surroundings; his trusted aides’ faces were sun-reddened and beaded with fine sweat. Looking back, he saw the legion’s trail, countless drops of sweat falling on the wilderness, only to evaporate quickly, leaving behind mere specks of white.

The army had marched on resolutely for days, covering more than three hundred miles, with the scenery along the way resembling the same monochromatic painting. The endless flat paths of the northern wilderness stretched infinitely, with only the towering peaks of the East gradually falling behind. Soon, as the sun dipped low, today’s march came to an end, and the Samurai found a stream thick with vegetation to encamp and hurried to gather water for cooking.

"Bertade, it seems that in this Northern Land, the greatest difficulty in battle isn’t the Canine Descendants, but the long supply lines and the dry land!"

The King lifted his water flask, gulping down several mouthfuls of the cool brackish water. He let out a contented sigh before looking around sentimentally.

A shallow stream flowed from the eastern Sierra Madre Mountains, struggling to reach this place, finally giving the land a touch of vitality. Around the stream, yucca flowers were in bloom. Long, sword-shaped leaves sent up tall spires, and on these spires blossomed brilliant white flowers, like little bells. There were a few tiny dots crawling on the bells. Curiously, Xiulote leaned in closer, only to find that they were white yucca moths, busy with the pollination of the flowers.

At this moment, the setting sun dipped in the west, dyeing half the sky with a red glow. The heavens were awash with colors, the mountain ranges majestic with their undulating peaks, the highland vast and endless, and the air was filled with a sweet fragrance as the blossoms burst forth in front of them!

The King paused his steps, silently gazing for a long time, his heart swelling with a conqueror’s pride.

"The highland vast and wild, the rivers and mountains picturesque. This Northern Land is boundless, but I do not need to build a Great Wall; I just need to hold them all in my hands!"

Upon hearing the King’s proclamation, Bertade stood solemnly behind His Majesty, in his unwavering armor. It was only after His Majesty turned to look again that he began to speak with a smile, his words laced with caution.

"Your Majesty, this march is not truly difficult. Many rivers flow west from the mountain ranges in the East, and we have local Otomi guides to point out the roads and water sources. The truly daunting march will be crossing the Pamus State and entering the stronghold of the Guajili people, the Kolawea Wilderness that spans two thousand miles! There, the water sources are even scarcer, supplies even more lacking, and combined with complex terrain and no guides, any large-scale military campaign would be a disaster of death!"

Hearing this, Xiulote gave a slight start and sighed softly.

The Kolawea Wilderness was the cradle of the Guajili people, and further north lay the future border between the United States and Mexico, New Mexico, and Texas.

In Xiulote’s vague memory, although extremely arid, Kolawea was the mining heart of the North. There were not only extensive gold and silver mines but also massive open-pit coal mines and an iron ore deposit of unknown location. Yet, with the logistical capabilities of the time, advancing two thousand miles across the wilderness to exploit the minerals of Kolawea was simply an impossible task.

"Bertade, I understand your meaning! This land is barren and desolate, and far too distant from the Mexica Alliance. There’s no way to occupy it at this time, nor is it worth occupying. The purpose of this northern campaign is to engage in combat with the Guajili, to kill their warriors, to plunder their able-bodied population, and then to destroy the Tribal Alliance of the Canine Descendants! The large-scale military operations of the Allied Forces will be confined within the territory of Pamus State!"

After marching for more than ten days, the King personally witnessed the desolation and vastness of the North and further clarified the objectives of the northern expedition. The North is infinitely vast, and without fast-moving Cavalry, it simply cannot be controlled. And once horses are obtained, the Canine Descendants of the North will become a major concern for the Empire. All of these factors require advance planning and the strategic placing of pieces. In areas the legions cannot reach, only trade and religion are the keys to containing the North.

"Have the captured prisoners all been transported to the South?"

After a moment of thought, Xiulote asked.

The army had now fully entered the territory of Pamus State, over three hundred miles away from the Mountain City. With the sweeping strikes of the three Mexica legions, reports of victory continuously came from the front lines. More than ten ordinary Guajili Tribes had been destroyed by the Allied Forces, and over fifteen thousand Canine Descendant Tribes were erased from the map. According to the Samurai’s report on their merits, more than three thousand Canine Warriors had been killed, and over eight thousand young men and women had been taken prisoner, while the casualties of the Allied Forces were only a few hundred.

"Your Highness, the gradually captured population of over eight thousand have already been escorted by the Otomi Militia in charge of grain transportation to concentrate in the Mountain City to the South. Next, General Kuluka will arrange the subsequent journey, transporting them across the Lerma River, and into the heartland of the Kingdom. Finally, Marshal Olosh will personally allocate, according to the register, those captured Canine Descendants who can farm, evenly to the Nobility and Samurai who have been granted land for their military service,"

Bertade explained in detail. Guajili warriors are notoriously unruly, and most veteran red-haired warriors were killed or fled during the attacks on the Tribes. Therefore, most of the Guajili prisoners were ordinary Tribal inhabitants, and their fate was to become Agricultural Slaves of the Kingdom. Only a very small number of surrendered Guajili warriors would be absorbed into the Kingdom’s legions after truly converting to the Chief Divine.

In fact, considering the degree of hatred the Otomi people held, during combat with the Guajili Canine Descendants, they were close to leaving no survivors. But the King issued strict orders, providing food for the prisoners, and since all Otomi legions knew the Mexica tradition of sacrifice, they obediently turned over the captives. To appease the feelings of the Otomi Warriors, Xiulote selected the Chieftains and Chieftains of the Canine Tribes and, in the presence of the generals, sacrificed them to the most high Chief Divine.

Xiulote nodded. He looked to the not-so-distant bleak village, situated at the headwaters of the stream. It was now dinner time, and there wasn’t a single wisp of cooking smoke in the village, nor any sign of people moving about. Only vaguely visible were exposed white Bones scattered around the village, with Otomi clothing strewn nearby.

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"Along the way, Pamus State has been completely devastated; who knows how many years it will take to recover…"

Bertade shook his head. He had heard the Scouts’ report and was aware of the brutality of the Canine Descendants. They were ferocious and glorified strength, and they even disregarded the lives of the elderly and weak amongst their own, so how could they care about the lives of the Otomi? The remaining population of Pamus State was probably even lower than previously estimated.

The two stood by the creek, watching the sun set in the West, while discussing the military strategies for the northern campaign. Far off, several Scouts were running from the North. They carried the green flags that represented victory, evidently bringing more good news.

August ended amidst slaughter. The three Mexica legions, like charging wild buffaloes, stampeded forward, heading for the camps of the Canine Tribes, completely destroying every obstacle in their way.

The thunderous fall of rocks into the lake would always startle a flock of birds. Facing an existential threat, the remaining Canine Tribes finally reacted. They abandoned the nearly harvested fields, packed up their rudimentary belongings, and fled northward in the night. However, like birds returning to their nests, the escaping waterfowl had yet to lose heart, gathering around the major Tribes, heeding the arrangements of the lead birds.

In a few fertile areas of Pamus State, the Canine Descendants gradually amassed into tens of thousands, forming contiguous camps. The eight Great Tribes each gathered their vassal Tribes, mobilizing thousands of warriors. The Tribal leaders debated day and night, arguing loudly, determining the future of nearly one hundred thousand Guajili people!