Emerald clouds drifted away in the sky, yellow leaves withered among the mountains. Autumn in the Northern Land was full of depth, with a great expanse of mountains stretching to the horizon. The brown ridges extended eastward and abruptly rose into steep slopes before bending towards the north.
Xiulote stood atop a small hill, his eyes unwavering, intently focused on the battle before him.
At this very moment, several thousand Canine Warriors were entrenched in the mountain top camp, defending with the advantage of the steep slopes that soared dozens of meters high. Two thousand Ottopan Warriors dressed in gray-blue War Clothes fiercely attacked up the steep incline, like surging waves!
The Canine Warriors howled as they hurled stones, and red-haired Hunters fiercely shot arrows. Arrows and stones fell from above like raindrops, killing climbing Samurai and shooting down approaching Crossbowmen. The Crossbowmen, with frenzied expressions, stood behind on the lower part of the slope to return fire. The crossbow bolts whistled sharply, piercing the faces peering out from the palisade walls, ruthlessly transfixing the nearest enemies.
The attacking war drums grew more rapid, the intense shouts of killing drowning out the whistle of arrows. From time to time, the elongated, piercing wails resonated between the mountains like a symphony of death!
Under the banner of the Red Dog, the Canine Descendants held their ground, resisting with exceptional determination and strength. The Ottopan Warriors charged the camp three times, and three times they were repelled. Jiowar personally oversaw the battle from the front lines. Clenching his teeth fiercely, he raised his War Club in anger, ready to dispatch a fourth wave of warriors.
From the hill, the blood dyed the brown stones red, and bodies tumbled down the slope, like falling maple leaves, reminiscent of a scroll offered to the gods.
Xiulote lowered his eyes and shook his head.
"Bertade, how many Ottopan Warriors have we lost?"
The Head Warrior gazed quietly at the battlefield. With his extensive battle experience, he counted briefly and confidently replied.
"Your Highness, at least five hundred."
"And the Canine Descendants?"
"At most... four hundred."
"Raise the command flag, sound the conch, retreat."
"As you command!"
Bertade nodded. He picked up a huge conch shell and blew into it himself.
"Toot!... Toot!..."
The fourth wave of warriors was about to charge when the sudden sound of the retreat conch halted their decisive momentum. Jiowar, with eyes red, turned back and roared in anger.
"Damn it! Who is blowing the horn recklessly? I’ll have his..."
The Coyote Prince suddenly stopped. Then, he was taken aback, lowered his head, and bellowed with reluctance.
"Issue the order to the Nobility and Chieftains, retreat!"
Quickly, the dark green Crossbowmen covered the retreat with their arrows, and the gray-blue figures receded from the steep slope like a tide. The Canine Descendants on the city walls roared with joy, letting out wolf-like howls.
In the center of the Chieftains, the Great Chief Chichika raised his arms with force, baring his teeth in unrestrained laughter.
In the Tribal Council, although he outwardly exuded confidence, repeatedly emphasizing the need to hold their ground, he was inwardly anxious and had even secretly arranged for an escape route. After all, they were facing the feared God of Death Great Chief! Only at this moment, seeing the enemy warriors struggle tremendously in their climb and incurring heavy casualties in their assault, did the Red Dog Chieftain feel truly reassured.
"Chieftains, warriors!"
Chichika shouted spiritedly.
"The God of Death Chief is nothing! We can hold this mountain fortress until ten harvests pass, with our corn cribs filled to the brim!"
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"Awooo! Great Chief is mighty!"
The Red Salamander Chieftain Axolotl joined in with a smile, and the other chieftains also nodded their heads and shouted in agreement. The heads of the Canine Descendants finally felt at ease and no longer secretly considered fleeing.
In a corner of the camp, the young girl Alans breathed a sigh of relief. Having gone through the battle, she now truly became a red-haired huntress. She watched the enemy retreat like the tide, shook her short red hair, and excitedly waved her Hunting Bow. Then, her gaze followed the Otomi leader, down to the black Wolf Banner.
"Your Highness!"
Jiowar, his face flushed with shame, fell to his knees before the prince.
"I have failed to live up to your great expectations, please punish me..."
"No matter."
Xiulote smiled gently. He gestured for the Coyote Prince to stand.
"Prince Jiowar, the terrain here is too treacherous. The Ottopan Warriors have attacked thrice and have already done very well. The lives of warriors are our most precious wealth; there should not be such wasteful loss!"
Jiowar stood up, grateful. He hesitated for a moment, clenched his fist, and through gritted teeth, requested an assignment.
"Your Highness, please give me three hundred sets of sturdy armor! I shall personally lead the trusted aides and scale the ramparts for you!"
"Oh?"
Xiulote turned his gaze onto him. He observed Jiowar’s expression for a moment and then burst into hearty laughter.
"Excellent! Jiowar, my brave warrior, you are determined indeed!"
Hearing the prince’s affirmation, Jiowar inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Heart pounding, he awaited the prince’s instructions.
"The Canine Descendants are spirited and hold their ground in dangerous terrain. Under the onslaught of heavy rocks, even sturdy armor offers no defense. A forceful attack would cost too many lives!"
Xiulote pondered for a moment and then spoke slowly.
"Jiowar, I have been observing for a while. I now have a rough plan for how to conquer this mountain fortress."
"Ah, divine wisdom has inspired Your Highness! The Ottopan Warriors are willing to die in your service!"
Jiowar immediately bowed deeply, his face showing generous resolve.
"Good. Jiowar, I entrust you with a new task!"
Xiulote suddenly smiled.
"Take a thousand bronze axes, and with the Mexica legion, clear all the sparse trees around."
"Ah, clearing trees?... I shall follow Your Highness’s command!"
Jiowar was stunned for a moment, then nodded blankly.
The Mexica and Otomi Allied Forces immediately made an encampment in front of the fortress. The mountain terrain was narrow, and the Guamare legion, Pamus legion, and Longbow Militia were all sent to station ten miles behind. Thousands of Ottopan Warriors then cleared all the trees around. Under the direction of the craftsmen accompanying the army, they busied themselves and quickly constructed more than a dozen catapults.
The Canine Warriors on the mountain fortress came out to raid several times but were repelled each time by the vigilantly guarded Imperial Guard Warriors. The allied forces’ catapults were taking shape rapidly.
Chichika looked on with a grave expression, deeply concerned about the developments below. He began by inquiring with Amoxtli from the Red Fox Valley.
"What are these wooden beasts?"
Amoxtli shook his head, not knowing, but he recommended someone, Zucata from the Red Monkey Tribe. In these past days, he had been with the other in the rear encampment, making many contacts, and they got along quite well. He knew that this was a "red-haired warrior" from the Great Tribe in the south, who had seen much and was knowledgeable about the Mexica people.
The Great Chief immediately summoned Zucata. Although Ozoma was reluctant, he had to let him go.
"Warrior from the Divine Eagle Tribe!"
Chichika laughed heartily and opened his arms to welcome him.
However, Zucata bowed his head and clenched his fist at his chest, performing a ritual of the Tarasco Kingdom.
"Great Chief, my greetings to you!"
The Red Dog Chieftain nodded his head, scrutinizing the newcomer. The man was tall and wore the garments of a Canine Warrior, only that he wore a bifurcated feathered helmet that covered his hair. The sacred red hair was always a symbol of the Canine Warriors. Unless necessary, the red-haired of the tribe did not like to wear helmets.
Following that, Chichika stood on high ground, pointed towards the giant wooden beasts below the mountain, and asked seriously.
"Zucata, tell me, what is the Cactus Tribe doing?"
Zucata observed for a moment, and after listening to the detailed report of the Scout, he gave a definitive answer.
"These are catapults of the Mexica people!"
"Catapults?"
"Great Chief, I have fought the Mexica people in the Southern Army of the Kingdom for nearly a year. They have many new kinds of weapons that can manipulate stones, thunderbolts, and flames. The catapult is a weapon for hurling stones, able to throw boulders weighing dozens of pounds over two hundred paces!"
"What? Two hundred paces away?"
Chichika’s face showed shock.
"Are you saying this wooden beast below the mountain? It can hurl stones weighing dozens of pounds up to here?!"
"Uh, this height..."
Zucata looked at the catapults below and then at the encampment’s height, shaking his head.
"The encampment is situated high and is difficult to climb from below. The Mexica people’s catapults cannot be transported up the steep slope, nor can they throw large stones up here, at most, they can toss a few pounds of small stones up. Moreover, hurling from below upwards, the force is easily exhausted, and the feeble stones cause little harm."
"Indeed. Hurling can only be done from high to low, the other way around is much more difficult."
Chichika nodded his head, yet his expression did not relax one bit. He looked intently at Zucata.
"Zucata, if it cannot cause much harm, why would the Mexica go to such lengths to bring this here?"
"Hmm... This weapon can also be used to throw burning, smoking fireballs."
Zucata pondered for a long time before cautiously replying.
"Burning, smoking fireballs? What kind of spell is this?"
Chichika tensed up again.
"I encountered it at the mountain fortresses of Xitaqualo. The fireballs would come burning and emitting thick smoke, sticking to the walls and burning. This kind of fire is hard to extinguish; even water is ineffective—it must be put out with sand and dirt. But it seems that the fireballs are quite precious and not numerous. And when the fireballs burn, the Mexica cannot attack."
"Paper Fireballs... forest fires..."
Chichika pondered for a while, pacing back and forth. The shadow of the recent forest fire still lingered in his mind, refusing to leave. After a moment, the Red Dog Chieftain gave an order to Uman beside him.
"Uman, command all warriors to be cautious. Have more sand and soil dug from behind the encampment and hoarded inside the camp! Ah, right, we should have people cut down the sparse woods around as well and pile them further away!"
"Uh... as you say, Chieftain!"
Uman nodded vigorously and immediately went to execute the command with his trusted aides. Although not articulate, his ability to act was exceptionally strong. In just two days, the camp was stocked with mud, and the shallow trees on both sides of the mountains were cleared away.
Several days later, the Mexica legion launched another assault. The crossbowmen donned the trusted aide’s copper armor and moved in close to shoot. The fierce crossbow bolts shot up covering the sky, suppressing the hunters on the wall.
The newly constructed dozen or so catapults creaked and groaned as they hurled stones weighing several pounds. The stones whistled through the air and, exhausted of their force mid-flight, "gently" landed in the encampment. The barrage knocked the Canine Descendants to the ground, holding their heads, but did not cause any casualties or have the power to damage the sturdy fortress walls. Soon, the Otapan Warriors raised their Great Shields and tested charging forward a couple of times. They shouted loudly, but hurriedly retreated without even touching the fortress wall.
"Ha ha, there’s nothing to be afraid of with those wooden beasts! The Cactus Tribe worries we lack defensive stones and has specially brought them from the mountain for us! When the enemy comes to attack, we’ll ferociously toss them down, returning them to their warriors!"
Chichika looked around. Many tribe warriors saw the massive catapults for the first time and their faces showed fear. The Great Chief then laughed heartily, lifting the spirits of the warriors.
"Warriors, I have good news for you! All the tribes have finished harvesting maize and it’s being continuously brought in! The fields in the valley are extraordinarily fertile; this year is a bumper crop!"
A bumper crop meant that everyone could eat their fill. Next year they wouldn’t have to fight the other tribes to the death for food or hunt their weak and elderly.
"Howl! The maize is a bountiful harvest; the Great Chief is the son of the earth!"
The Red Salamander Chieftain shouted timely, and instantly the camp resounded with cheers. The Great Chief’s prestige was reinforced once again, slowly merging with divinity. If not for outside interference, a new powerful leader would emerge and fully integrate the Guajili tribes within a few years.
Several hundred steps away, Xiulote stood without raising the Royal Banner, just watching from a small hill. Listening to the boiling cheers of the Canine Descendants, a smile appeared on his face.
"Well done, Jiowar."
The Coyote trusted aide bowed respectfully, even though he harbored doubts.
"Let the Canine Descendants celebrate for a day, relaxing their guard. With the catapults complete, the moment for a full assault is upon us!"
Xiulote pondered for a while before decisively giving an order.
"Bertade!"
"Here, Your Highness."
"Take out the fire arrows and give them to the skilled Archery trusted aides! Redistribute the gunpowder to create burning paper fireballs! Also, have the Artillery Camp ready; all Eight-Gate Wooden Cannons to be moved into the camp!"
"By your command! Your Highness, I’ll see to it personally!"
Bertade responded calmly, with a touch of excitement in his voice.
"Good! Send out some trusted aides and summon Red Frog Chieftain Keka and trusted aide Miwa as well!"
Xiulote’s face showed a smile, confident and composed.
"Tell them, the time has come to serve the Alliance!"
His words dispersed into the wind, drifting over the brown hills and stirring the withered leaves. Amidst the boiling cheers of the Canine Descendants, a heavy aura of killing intent lay hidden, silently flowing.