Quiyus looked past the King, gazing towards the flag on the watchtower. The Tarasco eagle soared in the wind, enveloped by the cloak of nightfall. After a moment, he knelt again on one knee, bowing deeply to the King.
"Beneath the banner of the eagle, my blood shall flow, ceaselessly until death," he avowed.
Su’angua emerged from the shadows, his expression solemn, lifting his respected uncle to his feet.
"Uncle, I must depart before dawn tomorrow, taking with me two thousand Imperial Guards, three thousand spear Militia, and five thousand Samurai of the Kingdom. The road back to the Capital City spans over four hundred miles, and to guard against Mexica raids, the march cannot proceed too swiftly. I need you to hold here, for another fifteen days!"
Quiyus nodded silently. He closed his eyes and pondered for a moment before quietly suggesting.
"Your Majesty, you might take more troops, to preserve more of the Kingdom’s vitality. I can hold out here!"
Su’angua shook his head calmly, having already fully considered it and now not a moment’s hesitation.
"I have already taken all the disciplined and loyal Samurai capable of fighting. I’m entrusting to you the two thousand foreign Mercenaries, to keep the six thousand Tekos Samurai at bay. These vassal Samurai scattered across the front-line fortresses, once they retreat, will surely be noticed by the Mexica. They are also not fit to be brought into the Capital City. And the remaining twenty-two thousand Militia, unable to operate at night and unable to keep secrets, I’ll leave them all to you, along with two thousand Longbows!"
"The Capital City is in peril, the Chief Minister, though of eminent prestige, is unable to unify the Nobility and High Priest. If the situation becomes dire, there may well be unforeseen events. This time I’m returning with the troops to replant the Royal Banner atop the ’Palace of Wind’ to stabilize the military morale in the Capital City. The retreat must be swift! I can only take ten thousand elite men. And as long as these ten thousand return to Qinchongcan, the Capital City will be as firm as the Divine Mountain in the west!"
At that, the King looked at Quiyus, his eyes ablaze with what seemed like flames. He opened his arms and embraced his uncle in farewell.
"Uncle Quiyus! For the sake of the Kingdom’s continuation, for the glory of the Royal Family, I entrust this place to you! Fifteen days, just hold for fifteen days! Then, whether you fall back to the hinterlands or surrender to the Mexica, the choice is yours to make!"
The Southern Route Commander slowly nodded, like a frozen sculpture in the wind. Once again, he vowed with a solemn voice.
"Beneath the banner of the eagle, my blood will flow..."
Upon hearing the familiar oath, the young King finally smiled. He lowered his head, for the first time solemnly saluting his uncle, then silently entered the fortress. The intricacies of the retreat demanded his personal decisions, secret preparations, and arrangements. The King’s guard arrayed into two columns, wielding Bronze Axes and Greatbows, followed with equally somber faces.
On the deserted expanse of the fortress, only Quiyus remained alone. He watched the fluttering Royal Banner in silence, memories of ancestral glory flickering in his mind, blooming into a smile on his lips. Until the night grew deeper, a squad of guards hurried over, replacing the inherited Royal Banner with a new one. It was then that the Southern Route Commander found himself devoid of strength. He staggered forward a few steps and fell beneath the flag. The towering fortress fell silent once more, save for the drifting funeral songs of the Priests, mourning the fate that was soon to come.
His fate was sealed, and with it, tens of thousands of soldiers in his command were destined to plunge into boundless darkness. The old Royal Banner fell without a sound, the new banner rose gently, just as the Kingdom’s downfall, an omen sung in the nocturnal lament.