Duncan led the elite cavalry on a triumphant advance, breaking through Picano City, Temmon City, and the Bertal tribe. Six battles, six victories, all were major wins. By the ti the enemy hurried back to intercept, they had already advanced to the Aztec capital, Tenoch City.
"What?"
"The enemy only has less than eight hundred people?!"
Montezuma II’s expression was one of disbelief, with a hint of veiled excitent. He imdiately slapped the table and stood up, saying, "Assemble the legion! I want to personally defeat this formidable enemy!"
He wanted to lead the campaign himself.
It was easy to gather fifty to sixty thousand troops around the Aztec capital, supplented by the priesthood inside the city and the nurous nearby tribal populations. Even a single spit from each could drown them.
The next day.
Montezuma II gathered an army of sixty thousand, claiming to have one hundred and fifty thousand. The grand army assembled on the plains outside Tenoch City, clashing head-on with the elite cavalry that had traversed thousands of miles.
"Crush them!"
Duncan, seeing the masses of enemies ahead, didn’t hesitate. He directly raised the necromancer’s lance and led the Khan’s personal guard in an assault.
These few hundred elites had been ard to the teeth, their equipnt on par with the Mongolian cavalry of later generations.
A barrage of arrows rained down.
Duncan drew his bow and shot an enemy warrior off his horse. Behind him, the Khan’s personal guard followed suit with mounted archery. After several volleys, Duncan charged on horseback, like a heavenly god descending, knocking the enemies before him into the air. All that could be seen were the severed limbs of a dozen n flying through the air. Before they hit the ground, he was already deep in the enemy ranks, fear spreading like air, suffocating. The enemies hadn’t had ti to regroup when the mighty cavalry of the grasslands swept through like a torrent.
Shattered!
Defeated!
Montezuma II had barely arrived at the camp when he heard a shocking report. His vanguard of six thousand n hadn’t lasted the ti it takes an incense stick to burn before being overwhelmingly defeated.
"Your Highness. This is bad."
"The enemy is upon us!!!"
An attendant hurriedly arrived, and Montezuma II, his expression one of terror, stood up, mumbling, "How could this be? Is my vast army just for show?"
Rumbling!
A cacophony of horses’ hooves erupted.
As he stepped out of the tent to look into the distance, he saw only billowing clouds of dust, unable to discern how many enemies were approaching.
Duncan’s elite unit was less than eight hundred, but his vassal army, recruited along the way, had grown to several thousand. Though they struggled to keep pace with the cavalry, their flag-waving and shouting lent an air of grandeur, making it seem like an army of tens of thousands.
"Quick, summon the High Priest!"
Montezuma II’s face changed drastically. He sent an attendant to the priesthood while he, under the escort of the forbidden guards, returned to the capital.
The enemy was too fierce!
It was as if his hundred-thousand-strong army was nothing to them.
In the distance, teams of priests hurriedly arrived. At the forefront, the High Priest ordered the sacrifice of prisoners in a blood ritual, while he ascended the altar to invoke the power of the Aztec gods.
A powerful wave of mana burst forth.
A howling curse wind, fueled by the blood sacrifice, surged towards Duncan. Then ca a black arrow, forged by divine power, laced with curses and poison, darting towards Duncan amidst the enemy ranks like a fleeting shadow.
The spirits trembled!
The spirits roared!
They gathered, and in the unseen dinsions, countless heroic spirits of the grasslands erged from the sky, charging into the holy sanctuary of the Aztec gods like they were riding celestial steeds.
——White Horse God (spirit aspect).
The wind was gathering.
Duncan instantly sensed sothing amiss. Before he could even react personally, a fierce gale surged across the battlefield. Countless winds converged, forming a storm, then transford into a swirling tornado, encapsulating Duncan’s figure. The tornado, following his movents, ford a sacred outline, a faint visible silhouette.
——Protection of the Feathered Serpent!
Boom!
An apparition of the Feathered Serpent God, with wings stretching tens of ters, erged. Unlike past instances when it was invisible to mortal eyes, this ti it condensed into a faint visible outline. Its massive body coiled above Duncan, and its pristine wings shielded him like shields, directly nullifying the curse launched by the Aztec priests through blood sacrifice.
"Feathered Serpent God!"
"It’s Quetzalcoatl!!!"
The Aztec army fell into chaos instantly. Many dropped to their knees, and even Montezuma II, as he fled, couldn’t help but turn back to look at the distant apparition of the Feathered Serpent God.
He is back.
In ancient myths, the return of the Feathered Serpent God Quetzalcoatl signified the end of everything on this land and the establishnt of a new dynasty.
At so point, the Corn Goddess Xolani’s figure also appeared.
As an avatar, she followed closely beside Duncan, like a female guard, defending against any otherworldly threats.
Heaven’s Wrath!
The spirits were in frenzy.
In countless forms, they coalesced into a deluge that swept across everything, directly bypassing the physical battlefield to assault the holy sanctuary of the Aztec gods.
This was their chosen one, the chosen among the chosen!
This ti, they must win!
——Heavenly Will [collective subconscious of the spirits]!
A colossal giant apparition ford from ancient spirits erged. At so point, dark clouds veiled the sky, lightning flashed, and thunder roared. The storm raged like a thunderstorm rebooting mythology, making the Aztec sun seem to vanish. The entire sky turned pitch black, and the dense lightning storm was like a thunderstorm, causing countless mortals to prostrate on the ground.
User Comments
0 comments from readers