"The troop deployment is meticulous and the order is well-kept. The Chief Minister of Tarasco is indeed a pillar of strength, living up to his reputation! What do you think are the weaknesses of this city, and how should we attack?"
Upon hearing His Highness’s query, the young Oorta raised his head, hesitated, and then after a moment, he lowered his head and said.
"Your Highness, since Cazonci Su’angua has been captured by you, the authority of Jinjinni’s Chief is just like water without a source. He can’t truly unify the nobility or suppress the priests. Although this city is strong, it is in disarray, and the key lies with the nobility and priests!"
"Hmm, disarray among the people. Well said!"
Xiulote nodded in approval and looked up at Aweit. The Crocodile Marshal, however, kept his head down, remaining silent.
"I’ve seen enough of this city for today. Let’s stop here!"
Xiulote said with a light chuckle, shaking his head. He turned around and walked away, enjoying the scenery around the Capital City. The area boasted convenient waterways, fertile and cultivated fields, densely clustered villages, and lush spring greenery. The youthful king finally couldn’t help but burst into laughter, his laughter filled with joy.
"Situated in the northwest of the world, with high and wide terrain. Rich soil, densely populated. With great rivers to the north and south, and mountains to the east. With rivers and mountains crisscrossing, fortresses that are strictly guarded. A culture deep and longstanding, with the nobility swept away, and the benefits of copper, iron, gold, and silver! This place, indeed, is the fertile soil of Guanzhong, the foundation of kingship!"
Xiulote laughed heartily as he walked away, his trusted aides closely following behind. Though the generals could not understand, they could feel the king’s vigorous spirit and pleasure, and they too broke into joyful smiles. Their laughter mixed with the spring breeze and gradually carried away across the whole area.
The following week was peaceful and tranquil. Nearly twenty thousand Mexica legionnaires completely unfolded around Qinchongcan. The massive siege camp layer upon layer, elite Scout Warriors patrolling all around, totally severing the Capital City’s external connections. The north and west sides of the Capital City, near the lakes, were narrow in terrain. The Mexica craftsmen then built assault ramps on the east and south sides of the city, and began constructing wooden siege engines.
Qinchongcan City lacked elite warriors, unable to strike out and harass, staying in an absolute defensive position. Upon the Chief’s orders, all four gates of the Capital City were blocked with bricks and stones, completely sealed. The Defending Army on the city walls could only watch as dozens of ramps slowly heightened. Even though there was enough food in the city and the ramps would take a long time to surpass the walls, the atmosphere of anxiety slowly spread. The powerful Chief controlled the Capital City, and the nobles could only gather secretly. Every night as darkness fell, secretive envoys would move about in the shadows, conducting discussions.
Xiulote sat comfortably in the eastern command tent, merely assembling surrendered generals daily, chatting about stories of Tarasco, asking about history and culture. He spent his evenings at banquets drinking, seemingly not at all concerned about the siege. Another week passed, and when the May winds blew from the East, an envoy hurriedly arrived, shouting joyfully.
"Honored Your Highness! The Supreme King himself, leading ten thousand warrior vanguard, has marched to twenty leagues east of here!"
Upon hearing this, Xiulote threw aside the Prepetcha board in his hand, joyfully standing up.
"We’ve waited long enough, the King has finally arrived! Bertade, you go prepare the banquet and check the camp again. The rest of you, get ready and join me in greeting the King!"
The golden sunset illuminated the vast land. On the verdant earth, there were massive tents, and tens of thousands of Mexica legionnaires. Xiulote, dressed in the Commander-in-Chief’s attire, stood solemnly outside the camp gate, waiting for the long-awaited King.
The blood-red sun flag first appeared on the horizon, followed by the solemn procession of tens of thousands of elites, and lastly, a noble battle group of fully two thousand warriors. The majestic Jaguar Warriors, draped in vibrant tiger skins, and the proud Eagle Warriors, dressed in splendid feathered garments, together surrounded the central King.
Aweit, donned in a white, "Evil Spirit" leather armor and wearing a fearsome "Skull" helmet, strode out from the battle group. His face bore the solemnity of divinity, his right hand clasping the Yellow Gemstone Heritage Scepter, sternly gazing at Xiulote and the other generals as they emerged from their encampment.
Suppressing the excitement in his heart, Xiulote slowly knelt to the ground. He bowed deeply to the King dressed as a divine being and, lifting the Marshal’s Scepter with both hands, respectfully shouted.
"Blessed by the Chief Divine! Xiulote, Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Route Army, offers his sincerest greetings to the Alliance’s Tratuoani! Supreme King, you are my monarch, father, and teacher. I offer you the honor of victory and the command of the legion!"
Hearing Xiulote’s shout, Aweit’s solemn face broke into a hint of a smile. He stepped forward, took the Scepter from Xiulote’s hands, and then gently ruffled the young man’s hair.
"Witnessed by the divine! Xiulote, you are my most outstanding subject, son, and student. I accept the honor of your victory!"
Then, Aweit placed the Scepter back into the young man’s hands, smiling as he exclaimed.
"My child, you are my most distinguished general! I bestow upon you the command of the Northern Route Legion, along with the vanguard of the Southern Route, once again!"
Without waiting for the young man’s reply, Aweit reached out with both hands and lifted him directly from the ground. Under the watchful eyes of the generals, the King gave the young man an equal and solemn embrace. Faced with such an extraordinary display of ritual, Xiulote, surprised, widened his eyes and, for a moment, seemed at a loss. Aweit laughed heartily, his right hand tightly grasping the young man’s left arm before raising it high, proclaiming to all present.
"Witnessed by the divine! Mexica’s fledgling Eagle has soared into the sky, transformed into the golden morning sun. His brilliance is unmatched, and his glory accompanies me!"
"Witnessed by the Chief Divine! I am the noonday sun, commanding the vast heavens and earth, leading the Great Alliance! And Xiulote, he is the red sun that rises on the horizon! In the distant future, when I journey to the Divine Kingdom, he will take my place, dwelling high in the highest heavens, continuing to lead you forward! Chief Divine bless, the gods love our people!"
"Witnessed by the divine," being the most solemn oath, and the sun symbolizing the King. Faced with this sudden declaration of succession, the generals of both the Northern and Southern Armies exchanged glances for a moment, then all knelt in salutation.
"Praise the Sun God! Heaven-sent King and Prince!... Chief Divine bless, the gods love our people!"
The thunderous shouts spread far and wide. Hundreds of steps away, the Intelligence Officer Gillim looked somber. He stood in the shade of the crowd, gritted his teeth, and sighed deeply. The spirited shouts continued to drift farther, awakening Su’angua in the camp and alerting Jinjinni on the city walls.
Under the setting sun and the witness of the crowd, Xiulote finally lifted his head. He revealed a radiant smile, looked up at the vast sky, and toward the supreme Sun Throne, took the second step that everyone expected.