The sun shone upon the earth once more. The earth was not much different from yesterday, except for a few extinguished campfires and shallow mounds. Traces of death had been buried underground, and the living continued their conquest.
After consuming a breakfast of corn cakes and black beans, the samurai shouldered their shields and war clubs.
The belongings of the warriors from both sides were collected. Many Otomi samurai had perished, leaving behind much of their gear on the battlefield.
The surplus weapons were carried by the samurai. Then the extra leather armor was given to the one hundred-plus Otomi militia to carry. These fortunate ones were promised their freedom as long as they delivered the equipment back to the Mexica camp.
By their side marched the escorting Jaguar warriors, gripping their throwing spears, ever vigilant of the captives' movements,
In an era of extremely scarce productivity, every piece of leather armor, every obsidian club, was precious. Damaged equipment was not carelessly discarded but was taken back to camp for repair.
The legion had captured a total of three thousand Otomi prisoners, a thousand warriors, and two thousand militia. The Mexica warriors brought out the prepared sisal ropes and tied the prisoners' hands together, forming chains of twenty, and escorted them in the middle of the troop.
The captives had to endure a long journey, crossing mountains, forests, rivers, and lakes, until finally reaching the capital city of the empire, waiting for everything to end.
The army packed up, ready to set out soon,
At this moment, over a hundred samurai spontaneously gathered in front of Xiulote. They knelt on one knee, bowing their heads in respect to Xiulote. These were the men he had seen before, who had offered up their hair at the end of yesterday's sacrificial rites.
Leading them was a middle-aged man, his face bearing the marks of time, his expression serene. He wore yellow-patterned war armor and a feathered beast helmet, his broad frame, thick fingers, and arms adorned with red-patterned armlets. He was, in fact, a seasoned Fourth Level warrior, qualified to join the ranks of the Eagle and Jaguar Warrior Brigades, merely a step away from becoming a First Level military noble.
The man approached Xiulote, knelt again on one knee, and deeply bowed his head. Xiulote, acting on instinct, mimicked his grandfather's gestures, and placed his hand on the warrior's head.
"Under the witness of our Guardian God Huitzilopochtli, the sacred, victorious, merciful coyote priest. I, Bertade, a warrior from Tenochtitlan, am willing to protect you, to fight for you, until my last drop of blood is shed."
The sudden pledge left the young man somewhat at a loss.
Xiulote stood for a while, gathering his thoughts, before asking, "Bertade, may I ask you a question?"
"I am at your will, to speak without reserve."
"We've only known each other for two days; why would you pledge loyalty to me? Is it because of last night's sacrificial rite?"
"I am grateful for your merciful guidance of my brother's spirit to the land of the dead."
"I see… Is there any other reason?"
"Under your leadership, we achieved victory yesterday."
"Hmm... is that so," Xiulote was unsure how to respond; yesterday, he had merely stood on the mountaintop as an observer, a priest watching the beginning, progression, intensity, climax, and end of the battle.
"Furthermore, you are born sacred, coming into this world shortly after the great Montezuma I passed away." Bertade then lifted his head, his calm face showing a hint of excitement, his voice deepening, and in the end so low that only the two could hear. "I remember that night, late stars illuminating the sky, death bringing rebirth."
Xiulote was startled. He remembered the discussion in Teotihuacan with the king and his grandfather about Montezuma I and the late stars, confirming that his birth was blessed by the Tengu Xiulotel. Then he had been bestowed with Tengu Ritual Attire and taken away by the king. Not long ago, the king had also inquired about his understanding of the sun and earth.
All these moments flashed through his mind like lightning, culminating in Aweit's meaningful smile: "You have passed the test."
Xiulote fell silent for a moment, his body tensing. Within the youth's body was not truly a youth. For the first time, his face carried a depth of seriousness.
So, in a low voice, he replied: "Then, Bertade, are you willing to walk the path with the reborn sun?"
Watching the changes in the youth's expression, excitement spread across Bertade's face. "I am willing."
"Regardless of what lies ahead?"
"No matter what lies ahead!"
"Until when?"
"Until the days of old fall away and the reborn sun reigns the sky!" Bertade's face was fervent, "And Montezuma reclaims the throne!"
The intense exchange was both secretive and swift. After completing the pledge of loyalty, Bertade regained his composure, stood up quietly, and retreated.
Next, over a hundred samurai paid their respects to Xiulote in turn, pledging their loyalty and vowing to follow him.
Most of the samurai were friends and relatives of those who had died in battle, and they expressed their gratitude to him for yesterday's funeral. Another part believed that as a priest, he was blessed by the gods, which had brought victory in the war. No one mentioned his astrological birth conditions anymore.
Perhaps they didn't know, or perhaps, it was just buried in their hearts.
Soon the army set out, embarking on the journey back to the siege camp of Xilotepec City. The road home would take several days, as the large force had to traverse mountains and forests, and it was destined to be more difficult than the journey there. Especially for the captives.
The samurai escorted the captives, forming a long line through the mountains. Aweit was always at the front of the column, discussing the transport of the captives and the handling of the spoils with the commanders.
Xiulote walked in the back, chatting idly with the first group of samurai who had followed him.
He found that the samurai who followed him were dressed and adorned simply, most coming from ordinary civilian families. It wasn't easy for them to be promoted. Although they were skilled in martial arts and excel at combat, they could at most reach the fourth level as seasoned warriors.
To advance to the next level and become a first-level military noble, with land privileges in the city-state, was extremely difficult. Luck, strength, and background were indispensable.
In other words, the samurai's spontaneous decision to follow him was partially due to faith and emotion. On the other hand, it was a longing in their hearts for a better future.
Xiulote had a new understanding: that faith and reality, parallel and equally important, were the foundation of loyalty.
And talking with experienced warriors was actually quite interesting.
Xiulote listened to the samurai talk about life in the city-state, such as the popular ball game that swept through the city-state. Players scrambled for a rubber ball in a rectangular and flat field and then tried to throw it into the high goal on the wall, similar to playing squash. Usually, the losers became slaves, while the winners gained wealth and honor.
On sacrificial days, the losers of the game would become sacrifices in the ceremonies. This was the infamous "human sacrifice ball court."
There were also mirrors ground out of obsidian, which were as reflective as a water surface to show one's face and were expensively priced, especially popular among the nobility.
And there was the cochineal, a tiny red insect that parasitized on cacti, secreting white hairs as fine as dust, surviving by sucking the juice of cacti, and growing into a plump round shape.
If the adult insects were ground into a paste, it resulted in the most beautiful rouge color. This top-grade dye was exceptionally precious and used on the most exquisite robes.
Xiulote also heard about the Capital of Tarasco, Qinchongcan, a city built atop a copper mine. Qinchongcan tightly restricted the outflow of copper mines within the city-state and controlled the sale of copper ware as well.
The people there not only made sturdy copper daggers, long spears, and axes, but they also made copper helmets and shin guards. It seemed that the Tarasco had mastered the method of making bronze and had begun to make copper armor.
"Actually, copper mines exist not only in Qinchongcan, where the Tarasco strictly control them." Bertade, who had been quiet, suddenly interjected, "As a scout, I once followed the Balsas River settled by the Qiongtar people downstream, passed through the highland forests, and traveled west for a month, deep into the southern lands of the Tarasco, in the Weytamo region."
Xiulote perked up, hearing new information about metal mines.
"There, the mountains rise and fall, and the forests are lush, with many Tarasco city-states that have a strong sense of autonomy. These city-states also use copper ware, and the copper blocks mostly come from the mountains. There are many bare rock hills where no grass grows. The rock surfaces have golden streaks, some resembling gold threads that twinkle and shine in the sunlight."
"Large porphyry copper mines can be mined in the open air. And they are not tightly controlled by the Tarasco people," Xiulote quickly grabbed the three key points.
"Respected priest," Bertade suddenly said very formally, saluting Xiulote for the first time, "Copper equipment is hard and durable and will be of great help to your future. With copper long spears, even a militiaman could threaten a warrior."
"Once this war is over, I am willing to infiltrate the southern Tarasco for you and purchase this important ore from local village domains."
Xiulote, watching Bertade's serious and thoughtful expression as he explained the importance of copper ware, initially wanted to smile. But as he heard him willing to risk great dangers to infiltrate Tarasco territory for the source of the ore, he was somewhat moved.
He then nodded vigorously, stood on tiptoe, and patted Bertade's shoulder.
The samurai continued to march forward, chatting and laughing, until the sun was faintly setting, and a cloud of darkness came from the distance.
It was then that Aweit appeared. He came with a smile and then paused for a moment. His eyes narrowed as he carefully regarded Bertade, guarding Xiulote's side, who seemed calm and worldly.
Then he looked at the hundred or more samurai crowding behind Xiulote.
Finally, he looked at Xiulote, who was also smiling, and said with a grin, "It seems that on this expedition, you've gained quite a lot."