Chapter 119: Chapter 79 Poet_2

Another clear cry of an eagle rang out, and within the camp, a Mexica samurai around thirty years old lifted his head to gaze at the sky to the East. The samurai had a handsome face and a pair of melancholic eyes, yet the corners of his mouth held a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

He must be the Warrior Captain of the camp, and beside him, a group of samurais stood clustered. The samurais were plainly dressed, their faces gaunt with hunger and exhaustion, showing clear signs of starvation.

"Balamo, what are you looking at? Sigh, though the sky is filled with birds, we cannot catch them, nor turn them into meat in our stomachs," a middle-aged samurai joked, his spirits still decent despite the starvation.

The melancholic Warrior Captain let out a small smile, reciting with a touch of poetry: