Chapitre 8: Chapter 8 Grandfather

Everyone stopped their conversations and came out to meet the visitor.

Standing at the entrance, Xiulote saw a man, about fifty-something years old, approaching him.

The elder had eagle-like eyes, and his piercing gaze chilled the hearts of those it fell upon. Time had etched deep lines on his face, blending with the bright red tattoos, casting a stern and indifferent visage that bore a supernatural presence rather than mere old age.

The elder sported a formal obsidian long crown which seemed quite heavy. The broad-fronted crown had a "Divine Face" made out of gemstones. "Eyes" crafted from two large rubies surveyed the earthly realm as the elder walked. The top of the crown was adorned with numerous half-meter long green feathers, and the back was densely packed with short blue feathers, spreading out magnificently like the sun.

Xiulote looked at the hefty High Priest's crown, feeling a headache coming on. Acap and Olosh, on the other hand, seemed pricked by something and bowed their heads, not daring to look directly.

Under the sunlight, as the elder slowly approached, the radiance was nearly blinding to Xiulote.

He was draped in a red cloak, bordered with a circle of red feathers, upon which golden suns were embroidered, and beneath it worn a lavish robe, adorned on the front and back with grains of gold and silver depicting the radiance of the sun and moon.

A dazzling necklace of top-tier obsidian hung from his neck, filled with countless gold-dust-like translucent spots. His wrists and ankles were adorned with pure gold bands that glittered as he moved.

The Mexica people didn't regard gold as valuable currency, but simply revered its solar color.

The elder's walk was slow and steady, as if he bore some sort of "Divinity." Acap bowed his head and stepped forward to offer assistance, but upon catching a slight tilt of the elder's head and his emotionless gaze, he immediately stood back with folded hands, waiting by the side.

Everyone then quietly bowed their heads and waited by the sides until the elder slowly stepped into the side hall, following which they filed in, crowding behind him.

The air fell silent until the elder stopped, turned around, and his sharp gaze fell on Xiuxoke, who quickly bowed deeply, keeping his head lower than the elder's eyes.

"Xiuxoke, the assembly of Priests has decided," the elder intoned, "to mobilize a mixed group for the coronation war. You will be the leader of eight thousand men, leading them in battle for the King and the City-State."

Olosh looked up, emitting an uncontrollable cheer, which was swiftly suppressed as the elder's gaze fell on him again, prompting him to lower his head.

"Yes, High Priest. I will fight for the City-State and the King!"

At this reply, a faint, barely perceptible smile traced the stone-like face of the High Priest. Then his gaze swept over Acap and Olosh again. "Xiuxoke, I need to speak with you alone."

Acap and Olosh performed a gesture of piety, consciously exited, and then closed the door behind them.

Only then did High Priest Xutel remove the obsidian crown from his head and carefully place it on the stone table, revealing his white-haired head. It seemed as if he had shed some heavy divinity, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief, his face showing more expression.

Xiulote approached and touched the stone crown, finding it truly hard, then tried embracing it—it was indeed heavy. It must be made of real stone. It appeared that being a High Priest was physically demanding; his grandfather was truly strong.

Xiuxoke hastened forward to assist, helping the elder unload the heavy cloak, the substantial necklace, and the pure gold bands. Only then could Xiulote see that beneath the dazzling and lofty priestly attire was a thin, weathered old man.

Xutel sat down on the ground, his thin frame finally showing a stoop. He patted beside him, motioning Xiulote to sit next to him, his left hand naturally stroking his grandson's head. His right hand pulled Xiuxoke to sit opposite; the three of them created an interesting contrast.

With no outsiders around, they could finally speak some private words.

"The City-State decided to mobilize a group of eight thousand, comprising ten camps, half of which are elite City-State camps and the other half are village civilian camps. That is, four thousand Samurai and four thousand Militia,"

"This time I overruled all the Elders and chose you to be the commander of the expedition," the old man's eyes were still exceptionally sharp. "You must seize this opportunity and achieve enough military merits."

"When you return, I will have reason to promote you from a Second Level Nobility to a Third Level Honorary Nobility, and in a few more years, you will rightfully become the ruler of the City-State," said the High Priest with an authoritative voice about the destined fate.

Xiuxoke nodded but unusually showed a hint of hesitation, "This battle will not be easy. The Otomi people are unlikely to fight us head-on, and the King's decision seems somewhat hasty."

Xutel nodded, "Every decision the King makes is naturally his responsibility. However, I will send a Messenger to him to have you avoid meaningless siege warfare."

"What you need to do is find the right moment to engage the Otomi in direct combat. Don't mind the casualties! I only need you to return, I only need substantial achievements. Samurai are like blooming flowers, always destined to wither somewhere. Civilians are even more like weeds in the fields, even if they die off, they will keep sprouting endlessly. Only you are the cocoa tree blessed by the Divinity, destined to bear the duty of leading the City-State!"

Xiuxoke remained silent without replying. Xutel then placed his right hand on his shoulder, looking at his son's resolute face and said softly, "I know, because of your background, you have developed some naive affection for the civilians and lower Samurai. Since I couldn't be by your side to teach you the way of the nobility from childhood, your mother filled you with too much of the civilians' frail emotions."

"But trees and weeds can never stand at the same height. As a Priest, the religious law forbids me from officially marrying. But as a descendant of the Sun God, I must cultivate a tree that shelters for the family. You were born with a future to shoulder. Go and fight! Victory must be nurtured with life."

The warriors of the City-State won't care if their leader is a bastard. What they care about is whether you are brave enough, and whether you have enough enemy blood on your hands!"

Finally, Xiuxoke nodded, gazing into his father's eyes and declared loudly, "I will, Father!"

Xiulote pretended to be a rag doll, overhearing this unsettling instruction, his attention focused on his grandfather's robe. How were those pieces of gold and silver embedded into the fabric, it felt like some precise weaving technique and natural glue were used. Perhaps it could be used to make Cloth Armor?

Therefore, Xutel's gaze finally shifted to his grandson standing beside him, "How do you plan to arrange for Xiulote?"

Xiuxoke looked at his son affectionately and said, "Xiulote just returned from hunting, and while I'm on the expedition, I plan to let him rest at home and maybe learn some Priestly knowledge from you."

Xutel thought for a moment and shook his head, "No. Let Xiulote go with you. The knowledge of a Priest can be made up later. After tallying up the results of this capture, I will promote Xiulote to an official Priest. Then, during this war, assign him a few prisoners so that when he comes back, I can promote him to a Second Level Priest 'Chitli.'"

"But Xiulote is only twelve years old. Such a young Second Level Priest..."

"Take him with you! Xiulote is good at mathematics, he can help you keep the rations accounted for accurately. With his mathematics and battlefield accomplishments, he will be enough to convince the others. Plus, I am here."

Speaking, Xutel lovingly lowered his head and gently pinched Xiulote's cheek. The gesture was gentle, not painful at all. "Xiulote, you've been intelligent since you were little, you are our hope, and the hope of our family. Listen well to your father. I know you understand everything."

"A Second Level Priest at twelve or thirteen years old, in two more years, I will make you the youngest Fifth Level 'Coyote Priest.' That way, when I am gone, you can take my place. Xiulote, you must remember this."

Xutel stared into the young boy's eyes, seemingly trying to convey something with his gaze.

"You are born extraordinary, with signs in the heavens! You are also a descendant of Acamapichtli, among generations of Mexica Kings, sharing the same bloodline! Your future holds limitless possibilities, and I will seize every opportunity for you!"

"And my future," the old man finally murmured to himself, "is only a few years away from the Divine Kingdom..."

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