Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

The rainy season in August was intense, with sudden showers accompanied by strong winds, and dark clouds obscuring the sun and daylight. The darkness enveloped everything, including the faces of the envoys from Xilotepec City.

Xiulote, accustomed to standing at the edge of the large tent, was forcefully pulled back by Totec's strong arm. The supreme commander with a shaven head and tattooed face gave Xiulote a smile he thought was benign. Xiulote shuddered and had to stand beside him.

This time, the leader of the envoy was a nobleman. He wore a blue pointed leather hat and a green striped cape over a white robe embroidered with the Sun, carefully avoiding all colors associated with the gods of day and night.

The nobleman's posture was naturally much more flexible and agile than that of the priests. He first paid his respects to the "Divine Descendant, as sacred as the morning sun, as grand as the mountains, as brave as the flames, as wise as the Great Lake." Then, he sung praises to the great hummingbird from the south, the Aztec mythology's War God Huitzilopochtli, the successor of the Sun God.

Following that, the nobleman began lavishing wholesale honorary titles and compliments on the commanders and priests present like they cost him nothing.

Xiulote glanced involuntarily at Aweit's sincere smile, then widened his eyes in dismay. He too had received a complimentary title: "Beast Breeder," a name that sounded utterly fantastical.

He found it hard to forget the look of shocked confusion and awe on the envoy's face when they learned that the creator of the "beast" trebuchets was him, as if he shouldn't be just a youth but rather a giant from the mythological First Sun Era.

Too much mythological thinking still lingered in the hearts of people across Mexico, the flames of civilization had just begun to kindle.

And the growth of those flames required the accumulation of civilization. Xiulote reflected, "Perhaps, I should invent a script soon."

In the tent, the noble's words might change many things, but at the moment, they couldn't alter the essence of the war between the two sides.

When the envoy from Xilotepec City cautiously expressed their intent to surrender, the elderly priest with the Sun Cape stepped forward once again.

Thirty years' worth of tributes, six thousand men as sacrifices, severance of the Otomi alliance, handover of the Ritual Plate, handover of the Divine Descendant as a hostage, converting to the great Sun God" — with the Mexica army holding a significant advantage, their terms became even harsher.

"Merciful Mexica King," pleaded the envoy to the expressionless Tizoc on the throne, "the City-State has decided to break the alliance and convert, and hand over the Ritual Plate. As for the tributes and sacrifices, may we discuss them further? I also need to report back to the City-State about the hostage matter."

The king finally nodded, "Immediately hand over the Ritual Plate that records all mythology. The tributes and sacrifices can be reduced by half. This is your last chance!"

The noble envoy immediately bowed in gratitude and then hurried to leave. Suddenly, he hesitated and said to Xiulote, "Dreaded Beast Breeder, during the negotiations of the City-State, could you stop the beasts' attacks?"

Xiulote looked at the king. Tizoc nodded, and Xiulote said, "It can be done!"

The noble sighed in relief, "I will bring you a satisfactory gift!" Then he left somberly.

Once the envoy had gone, everyone in the tent looked pleased, Xilotepec City was finally about to capitulate.

Xiulote too breathed a sigh of relief; the continuous three days of bombardment had severely worn down the trebuchets' axles, especially at the connections to the slingshots, where the force was greatest and most fragile.

Xiulote had already told Totec that if the bombardment continued for another day, the trebuchets would break, and it would likely take a week of repairs before they could be used again. Meanwhile, these three days of bombardments had caused only hundreds of casualties among the Otomi, and as the city's soldiers adapted, this number rapidly decreased.

Now, every time the trebuchets fired, the samurai and militia would lie down at the corners of the walls, lowering their heads and praying to the beasts, because the clever ones had realized that doing so, the beasts wouldn't harm them.

The king was very clear about the current situation, having already left room for retreat in the terms of negotiation. Fortunately, the morale of Xilotepec had already crumbled before its walls did.

Tizoc nodded at Xiulote with satisfaction, then stepped off the throne and stroked the youth's hair—an indication of swearing loyalty?

"The trebuchets are good, continue developing them," the king said with a smile, "What reward would you like?"

Xiulote was oblivious to the hint. He thought for a moment and replied, "I want some bronze axes and bronze tools, along with some skilled craftsmen."

"Apart from those building pyramids, you can choose any twenty craftsmen," the king withdrew his hand, expressionless as he pondered for a moment. "There are not many in the Copper-axe Guards either, I can only give you five sets along with the tools. I will grant you a batch of cotton, which you can use to purchase from merchants."

"The priesthood of Tenochtitlan will always reserve a high seat for you," Tizoc left with one final hint.

The young man had finally transformed from "a person who poses a slight threat to the throne" to "a person of some use to the throne."

The sudden downpour had just ceased, yet the sky was still densely covered with dark clouds. Early the next morning, Xiulote was awoken by the chaos and shouting coming from a distant city-state inside his tent.

He donned the Sun Cape newly bestowed by the King, and under the protection of Bertade the Imperial Guard and several Samurai, he ascended a nearby platform, looking towards the eastern gate of Xilotepec City.

He saw roughly a hundred laborers struggling to walk out of the city-state. They were forcefully pulling on the ropes on their backs, slowly dragging something.

Behind the laborers was a group of Otomi nobility Samurai dressed in magnificent attire. Some of the Samurai were blocking, while others were embracing to shield the Priests draped in black and white capes, their expressions fervent.

The Priests of Xilotepec watched helplessly as the laborers dragged a giant stone out of the city, heading towards the Mexica encampment. They eventually knelt on the ground outside the city, allowing their capes to get covered in mud, just staring in the direction of the giant stone.

Some Priests were crying bitterly, others whispered confessions, yet others swore oaths to the sky, and even more drew out small Obsidian knives, slicing their own cheeks to let the fresh blood stain red stripes.

Xiulote stepped forward and finally saw the giant stone clearly: it was circular, about two meters in diameter and over half a meter thick, roughly estimating, it weighed close to ten tons. At the center of the giant stone was the face of a dual-natured deity, possessing both male and female features, likely symbolizing the Primordial God Ometeotl.

Beneath the Primordial God was a monster that had the head of a Crocodile, the body of a fish, and the legs of a frog, symbolizing Xipactli, a primordial sea creature sealed by Ometeotl, believed to be an entity that devoured the world.

Encircling the Primordial God were four suns, symbolizing the four bygone Eras, similar to the Sun Stone in the Great Temple of Tenochtitlan, in order they were "Four Jaguars," "Four Winds," "Four Rains," "Four Waters," confirming the shared origin of the Mexican regions.

On the outermost edge of the giant stone, densely packed images were carved, featuring various animals, little people, and abstract deities, interspersed with villages, cities, and vast pyramids.

These images were the script of Central America, akin to the epic of a tribe, recording the developmental history of a city-state from a village to a city, along with famous warriors or godly miracles. Except for the hereditary Priests, no one could clarify the meaning of these images.

In these pictorial scripts, different images had different meanings, the same image also had different meanings, and different images could also have the same meaning.

This design was clearly not for the circulation of knowledge and culture but rather resembled the teachings of esoteric traditions.

This was the core power held by the Priests: the right to interpret mythology and pictorial scripts. Losing this Ritual Plate meant that the Priests of Xilotepec City had lost the most important foundation of the Temple within the city-state.

The Priests cried for their faith and harbored hatred for the power they lost.

"It's easy to create a script, but unifying the script has to be cautious; this is a struggle for core power with the Priests," Xiulote shuddered with alarm. "Without the mighty force of the First Emperor, how could one unify the script?"

After obtaining the Ritual Plate, the theologian King was extremely delighted, no longer paying attention to other trivial matters, only assembling the Priests in the military to study together.

Xiulote visited once, then sneakily slipped away; at that moment, Tizoc's eyes had only the Ritual Plate, truly the first time he showed no concern for Xiulote's actions.

Over the next three days, countless feathered garments, herbs, gold and silver ornaments, and gemstone treasures were continuously transported from Xilotepec City. Xiulote also received the promised gifts from the Envoy, giving him the illusion of becoming opulently wealthy.

Apart from tributes, the army also demanded ordinary clothing, fish meat, staple foods, and other daily consumables.

The Mexica Samurai were delighted with the spoils of war, but in the eyes of the Otomi nobility and Samurai, the flames of growing anger burned stronger.

On the evening of the last day, the gates of the city-state swung wide open. Three thousand designated sacrifices were finally escorted to the Mexica camp amid the cries of their loved ones.

Dark clouds once again enveloped the wilderness, and the August wind and rain were relentless.

By then, Xiulote clearly understood: from Priests to nobility, to Samurai, and then to commoners, every person in this city-state had become the absolute enemy of the Mexica army.

And how could a mere few nobility hostages suppress such deeply buried flames?