The golden sunlight fell upon the crimson battlefield, like the gaze of divine beings, watching over the lively sacrifice. The thunderous shouts of war suddenly rose loudly, as if it were a heavenly ritual, reaching its climax in an instant.
Xiulote surveyed the surroundings. The two legions were like dueling samurai, gripping their weapons tightly, already at the most dangerous distance amidst a gaze filled with intent to kill!
On the outermost flanks, two thousand warriors from the western city-states faced four thousand Chapala militiamen. The enemy militia shouted aloud, approaching within thirty paces, hurling volleys of spears mixed with stone and wood. The muffled sound of the air being pierced rushed forth, "whoosh," felling dozens of Mexica samurai.
Facing the enemy’s assault, the warriors of the western states could no longer hold themselves back. Raising their war clubs high, they let out a continuous roar, pouncing like a pack of wolves, charging ferociously!
The nobility from various states charged in the forefront, carrying various battle banners on their backs, skillfully swinging their obsidian-studded clubs. With powerful chops, they sliced open the enemy’s chests, creating wounds up to a meter long. With precise blows, they accurately hit their opponents’ heads, distorting them into various twisted shapes. Occasionally, they would knock an enemy to the ground and then, raising their clubs high, execute a threatening execution at the enemy’s neck!
At such times, the samurai of the noble families would gather around the family head. They protected the family head while paying attention to the ritual of honor. When a vibrant blossom of blood burst forth, the nobles once again raised their weapons high, and the samurai erupted into fervent cheers of praise, drowning out the pitiful echoes of screams. This was an ancient battlefield ritual, a symbol of the nobility’s personal valor, similar to the honor of capturing prisoners!
However, even in the face of fierce Mexica samurai, the Chapala militiamen also showed considerable bravery, with a willingness to fight to the death reminiscent of canine descendants.
A young noble from the Tlalocan city-state knocked down a militiaman with his club. He then stopped his charge, looking around, as the samurai of his family gathered around him. The young noble, seeing the enemy struggling helplessly on the ground, carelessly put down his club and took out the more glorious Obsidian Dagger. Then, stepping forward, he raised the glittering dagger high, and in the sight of all, knelt on one knee and plunged it fiercely toward the enemy’s heart!
But the militiaman on the ground suddenly rolled away, avoiding the incoming dagger. The dagger plunged deep into the earth, bringing a slight "put" sound. The young noble’s hand came up empty, and he was startled when a pair of strong hands grabbed him from the side. The wounded militiaman held the noble tightly, and without hesitation, opened his mouth and bit into the young noble’s neck, bypassing the sturdy Leather Armor!
The young noble screamed in agony, dropping the dagger from his hand and desperately pushing against the militiaman on top of him. A young samurai from his family hurriedly rushed forward, swinging his war club wildly, striking the militiaman. The pained militiaman bared his teeth fiercely and, with a "crunch," bit down, as blood flowed "whoosh" from the corners of his mouth and the noble’s scream abruptly became more shrill.
Another older samurai of the family frowned slightly and pushed aside the young samurai in front of him. He drew the dagger from his waist and stabbed precisely into the militiaman’s back. With a single twist, the militiaman lost all his strength and soon lay motionless. The samurai quickly grabbed the militiaman’s jaw, carefully prying open his teeth, and dragging him off the noble. The noble’s voice gradually weakened, the blood gushed from his neck, soaking the family banner behind him. In just a moment, he was completely silent.
Looking at the noble who had died in battle, the samurai of his family exchanged glances, speechless amidst the intense battlefield. The old family warrior turned to the young samurai.
"Izel, why did you swing your war club recklessly just now instead of using your dagger to help your brother?!"
"Respected Head Warrior, this is my first battle. I only remembered your teaching: on the battlefield, hold tightly onto your war club, never let go until death!"
Izel answered respectfully, yet with a tinge of relief in his expression.
The Head Warrior stared deeply into Izel’s eyes, then looked around and spoke quickly in a low voice.
"The Family Head is far in Tlalocan. The legitimate eldest son has died gloriously on the Tarasco battlefield, heading to the infinitely beautiful Divine Kingdom. Now, according to custom, let Izel from the junior branch take up the family’s battle standard and continue the unfinished divine war!"
The battlefield allows no hesitation, and the melee continues. The Chapala militia, wielding their stone hammers and clubs, pounced almost frantically and entangled with the warriors of the western states. Militia fell in groups, and occasionally a samurai was surrounded and killed. Thunderous shouts echoed around, with a merciless fight determining the true warriors.
In this corner of the battlefield, the family warriors nodded silently. Izel happily removed his brother’s battle banner, quickly tied it to his back, and took the first step in the rise of his life!
And at the center of the battlefield, two weapons of the new era were about to unleash the first roar on the battlefield!
On a high platform several meters high, Xiulote looked toward the flanks, listening to the intense fighting amidst the wind, his brows furrowing slightly.
Facing the militia’s attack, the city-state warriors on the flanks had initiated a charge on their own, falling into entangled combat. The nobility of various states struggled to command, still engaged in the intense warfare and performing the ancient and inappropriate battlefield rituals. Even as the supreme Marshal, he was helpless against these city-state nobility.