"Eh? The Alliance’s Scout wooden plaque? It’s of a higher rank than mine."
The Spear Militia were meticulous, forming a tight formation surrounding the two men with their sharp Copper Spears. The young commander, Guzman, looked perplexed. The two figures in front of him were dressed in Black Robes, bloodstained, and carrying a bamboo basket on their back. He examined the wooden plaque handed to him, scrutinizing it for a while before asking again in Mexica.
"Are you the Kingdom’s insiders?"
"We, Alliance’s, people!"
Chiwaco blinked his old eyes, repeating in simple Mexica language. Guzman scratched his head, unable to fully understand the other’s accent, then turned to his trusted Militia.
"Please call General Ezpan over; there might be urgent intelligence."
One of the Militia promptly stepped out of the formation and headed north. The rest stood firm with their Spears aimed at the two within the encirclement, the spear points pressuring their vitals. Chiwaco and Puap repeated themselves several times, but the captain across from them remained silent, his expression stern. Soon, large beads of sweat seeped from their foreheads.
Not far to the north, Ezpan stood at the end of the street, his armor stained with blood. He clutched the cold Spear in his hand, gazing at everything before him.
The majestic Capital City was collapsing under the night sky, its flames and cries of slaughter scattering with the wind; the flag atop the Palace of Wind silently fell, crashing in front of the blood-stained palace; the top of the House of Wind burst into blue flames, the centuries-old Temple destroyed amid thick smoke; generations of the Great Nobility also fell with wails, becoming cold adornments amidst the opulent Manor...
These images were imprinted in the eyes of the Surrendered General Ezpan, also translating into the tumultuous emotions welling up in his chest. Once invincible Nobility and high Priests now lay as low as dust, crawling at his feet, their lives or deaths at his mere word!
Ezpan’s expression shifted. He caressed his severed finger, his heart filled with a mix of exhilaration and disorientation. After a while, he turned around, looking towards the Prince’s position, bowing deeply with a long sigh.
"Such is the choice of life!... The God of Destiny is unfathomable, only the avatars of the divines endure in this world!... If not for His Highness, what end would I have met?..."
As Ezpan was reflecting, the reporting Militia came quickly. After a brief exchange of words, the two headed south together. Soon, Ezpan saw the surrounded insiders. He glanced over their tattered Black Robes, noting the faint pattern of the Hummingbird, and his gaze sharpened.
"You are insiders? Samurai of the Hummingbird Family?"
Hearing the familiar accent of the Capital City, Puap’s expression finally relaxed. He nodded and cautiously replied.
"We are the insiders who opened South City. There is urgent military intelligence we wish to report to His Highness."
"Meet His Highness? Military intelligence? What intelligence?"
"..." Puap was momentarily at a loss for words. He looked towards the old Militia.
"Chief Divine bless! May I ask who you are?"
The old Militia asked with a respectful smile.
Ezpan first looked at the Scout wooden plaque, then examined Chiwaco’s smiling face, and finally glanced at the bamboo basket before he finally spoke.
"I am Ezpan, born in the southern region of Qinchongcan, worked many years as a miner. Now, I am the new Legion Commander of the Tarasco Militia of the Alliance, as well as the interim Adjutant of the Spear Legion!"
"Ah! Legion Commander!"
The old Militia looked bewildered, while Puap exclaimed in surprise.
"In the Mexica Alliance, we, the people of Prepetcha, could actually achieve such a position! To command a legion all by ourselves!"
"Yes. I have followed His Highness for two years, one of the earliest partisans of His Highness!"
Ezpan lifted his head, answering proudly, his heart warming slightly.
After a moment of contemplation, Chiwaco tugged at Puap forcefully, then pointed at his chest.
"Old Pu, take it out! We can trust him!"
The Huitu Samurai hesitated for a moment before pulling out the Jade Talisman from His Highness. Ezpan’s pupils instantly contracted. He examined it carefully, his expression turning solemn.
"His Highness’s Jade Talisman?!"
Chiwaco nodded, earnestly saying.
"Great Master, we know where the Royal Family’s Prince is and would like to report back to His Highness!"
"What? The Prince! Where?!"
A smile squeezed onto Chiwaco’s face.
"Great Master, this... we are all people of Prepetcha, bound to serve His Highness in the future. We should look out for each other... Perhaps, you could join us to report to His Highness?"
"Indeed, His Highness personally promised me a Noble title and granted the Jade Talisman as a token... We are all loyal Prepetcha to His Highness..."
"Hm?... People of Prepetcha... His Highness’s promise... Looking out for each other..."
The fiery glow illuminated the three faces looking at each other. Miner, farmer, Samurai, three different identities of Tarascans meeting here for the first time. In this era of change and uncertainty, the once ordinary fates of these men were altered by the war of the Mexica Alliance. They had attached themselves to His Highness, embarking on paths they never imagined. Ahead lay bright prospects and unforeseeable futures!
After a while, Ezpan touched his severed finger again. He finally smiled, nodding solemnly.
"Chief Divine bless, it should be so!"
"Chief Divine bless!"
The three prayed with smiles. Chiwaco breathed a sigh of relief, his back drenched with sweat. He earnestly entreated Ezpan.
"Great Master, let’s set out now! The city is in chaos and carnage, could you dispatch two squads of Militia to look after our families?"
"Done! Where do you live?"