January marked the beginning of the New Year, a time for celebration and sacrificial rites. From the start of the month, grand ceremonies occurred successively throughout the regions of Mexico. In every peaceful village and town, Priests sang high, civilians danced joyfully, all celebrating together till the end of the month.
The Divine Descendants and nobility from the states had no interest in dancing or singing. They dispatched tribute Envoys and sent out discrete spies, questioning passing merchants, and closely monitored the warfare unfolding between the Lerma River and the Tarsus River. Among the world’s mightiest forces, a massive and brutal war was underway between the two longest rivers.
In distant rumors, it was said that a hundred thousand Samurai were engaged in relentless battle, their clashing so thunderous that flocks of birds scattered in migration, and the converging blood turned the rivers an altered color. At the intense frontline, the nobility perished like wilting flowers, Samurai fell like drops of rain, buried meekly in the earth alongside ordinary civilians!
Hearing the news from afar, the nobility of the states showed astonishment and harbored anxiety. The more tangible effects were evident in the markets of the City-States.
Alliances and kingdoms aggressively intercepted merchant caravans and mandated the collection of resources. Fleeing soldiers and rampant outlaws plundered areas, causing merchants to steer clear of the battlegrounds. The war had lasted long, and items like copper ware from Tarasco, dried fish from the Mikenque Lake Region, and medicinal herbs from the western forests were no longer available for purchase. The Mexica Priests exertively controlled the markets of the Alliance states, causing significant reductions in grain and salt from the Valley, not to mention war essentials like shields, cotton armor, and the fragile but lethal Obsidian Clubs.
Among all the news, the most unexpected was the loss of the northern defenses of the Tarascos Kingdom, with the Mexica Northern Army pressing close to the Capital City! The leaders of the City-States were shocked: "The Mexica have ’divinely gifted’ weapons, conquering all in their path!" In just over half a year, the strong Bronze Ware Kingdom revealed clear signs of decline, unable to resist the Mexica invasion.
The leaders of the states discussed fervently. They were acutely aware that the outcome of this colossal war would determine the future of the entire world!
Thus, even more Envoys were dispatched to forge connections with different kingdoms. More spies received orders to gather intelligence on the new weapons of the Mexica. Amidst hurrying travelers, February arrived abruptly.
February was a fitting season for travel. The warm sunshine splendidly beamed down, the cloudless sky devoid of rain. The ground’s soil turned dry, roadside shrubs shed their leaves, and insects were fewer than during the rainy season. Long marches became easier, especially in the flat Patzcuaro Lake Region.
Under the golden sunshine, "Feather" Pengguari, adorned in gold and silver garments, donning a magnificent Feather Crown, holding a noble Divine Staff, glittered like a divine envoy. His appearance was striking, demeanor grand, his majesty undeniable, and his movements graceful and composed. Behind him, a grand flag reaching four meters high was held aloft by a Standard Bearer.
The brand-new flag fluttered in the air, carrying the standard of a Prince, decidedly more exquisite. On the front of the flag was a flying Cherchar bird, with long, beautifully blue-green tail feathers. The back featured an abstract image of three deities, with clear and bright crimson eyes.
Under the guard of his trusted aides, Pengguari ascended a nearby hillock, spiritedly gazing around. In his view was an endless column of marching troops, a vast army from the Lake Region!
The Lake Region Samurai were spirited, dressed in patterned cotton armor, carrying Copper Spears, War Clubs, and shields, confidently heading towards the Capital City. The Militia gathered into loose groups, resembling swarms of ants. They traveled by village units, and under the control of Militia Captains, they carried the army’s baggage, holding Long Spears tipped with copper, stone, or bone spearheads, noisily heading east. In the rear, thousands of porters carrying provisions followed, conscripted from nearby villages to maintain the army’s logistics.
This was a powerful Lake Region army, comprising ten thousand Chapala Samurai and twenty thousand trained Militia! The brave people of Chapala could not be compared to the delicate Patzcuaro. They grew up fighting, resisting the Guamal Canine Descendants from the north and clashing with raiding squads while suppressing the Tecos Tribe to the west, occasionally raiding hostile settlements.
"This is an army to save the kingdom! And I am the leader of this army, today’s ’Feather’ Prince, tomorrow’s ’Feather’ King!"
Atop the hillock, Pengguari was filled with passion, looking to the rear. The tributary from Lake Chapala towards the East ended here, marking the end of the convenient marching route. On the river, supply boats were visible in the distance, continuously delivering supplies from the rear. Along the tributary, he had left the Sakap state, also moving beyond the protection of mountains and fortresses, possibly facing the Mexica forces at any moment.
Thinking of this, Pengguari’s brows furrowed slightly— he vividly remembered a previous encounter on Lake Yuriria. However, land battles differed from those on the lake; Samurai could move and dodge freely. Nearby, vegetation was not lush, providing no fuel for the Mexica’s Fire Arrows.
He looked forward, seeing a vast plain ahead, with fields that had been cultivated scattered with villages. Traces of past prosperity were faintly visible, now filled with desolation and decay, with no signs of human life or smoke from cooking fires. This area was the edge of the Patzcuaro Lake Region, with Capital City Qinchongcan just a five-day journey away.