Beginning

A fierce wind shook the curtains of the great tent, just as the campfire within flickered, casting patches of light and shadow across the generals' faces. Sudden rain beat upon the soft earth, like the scouts' hurried report, stirring wave after wave of ripples in everyone's hearts.

"The Tarascos have mobilized more than fifty thousand troops. The exact number is unknown. Their army includes the royal Copper Axe Guard and a large number of Copper Spear warriors. These legions are currently assembled around Acambaro on the southern bank of the Lerma River, and more troops are still arriving."

"Enemy scouts now blanket both banks of the Lerma River, making it impossible to learn more precise details. Near the siege camp at Otopan, we discovered traces of enemy scouts. The Tarasco army group is estimated to be only a little over a week's march from our camp."

This was astonishing news, yet it did not exceed the expectations of the generals in the camp.

Now that the spring planting had passed, the Tarascos no longer had any concerns about mobilization and would certainly send out their army. Their target would either be the powerful Mexica host, the Otomi People lingering on their last breath, or both at once, changing with the situation at any moment.

The people in the tent began to discuss matters in low voices. All those attending today's council were commanders of the directly controlled legions, loyal enough to obey the king. None were City-State Legion Commanders whose hearts wavered and who advocated retreat. Whatever they thought in their hearts, everyone would obey the king's orders.

Xolotl stood with his hands clasped at the edge of the great tent, studying the king seated high upon the Divine Altar from the corner of his eye.

Tizoc, seated in the center of the tent, wore only a light set of magnificent robes today and a simple feathered crown. He had not spent much effort maintaining "the majesty of a god." Compared to their previous council, his complexion was noticeably paler, showing the unhealthy state of poor sleep. He was likely deeply troubled by this long-dragging siege.

At this moment, there was also an unhealthy flush on his cheeks, seemingly the combined result of emotional agitation, insomnia, and irritability.

After hearing the scout's report, Tizoc drew a deep breath and calmed himself before speaking in a low voice. "The Tarascos' movements are unclear. The army must detach a force to garrison the Lerma River in the south. First, we will use the river to hold back the Tarascos. Second, we will establish contact with the capital through the river and open another route for transporting grain."

"Who do you think is suitable?" After speaking, Tizoc's still-sharp gaze swept over every commander present, carefully observing the generals' expressions.

Kasal raised his head high and strode forward. Beneath his confident expression burned a fierce longing for victory. "Give me twenty thousand warriors, and I will crush the Tarascos in a single stroke!"

Tizoc said nothing, merely nodding without betraying any emotion. Then his gaze turned toward Avet.

Avet nodded solemnly. "The Tarascos are formidable enemies. We need not defeat them; holding them back will be enough. This southern expedition requires not only warriors, but also Militia to build forts and strongholds. Commander-in-Chief Totek is skilled in warfare and possesses an extremely precise grasp of the situation. He is the most suitable candidate."

The king studied Avet's expression and saw only genuine sincerity. He nodded slightly, then finally looked toward Totek. "Commander-in-Chief, what do you think?"

After a brief moment of thought, Totek spoke decisively. "I recommend Avet. I can deal with the Tarascos, but the siege of Otopan is more important. Avet fought the Tarascos two years ago, and neither side gained the upper hand. He understands Tarasco tactics very well. Moreover, this detached force is meant for confrontation and defense, not attack. Avet has always been excellent at defense. Therefore, he is more suitable!"

Tizoc pondered for a moment, lightly tapping the stone surface of the throne with his fingers. Then he gazed at Avet for several more seconds before finally nodding.

"Avet, you will command the southern detached force." Tizoc's eyes never left his younger brother's face.

"The army now has nearly twenty thousand directly controlled warriors and twenty-four thousand City-State Warriors. For this southern expedition, I can give you only fifteen thousand!"

Tizoc's gaze sharpened. "No matter how many troops the Tarascos have, you must hold the northern bank of the Lerma River and not allow them to cross until Otopan City falls! Messengers have already informed the capital, and new legions are being mobilized. As long as you hold for one month, reinforcements will flow to you without end."

Avet lowered his head solemnly. "I obey your will, my king."

Then he raised his head to look at Tizoc and said sincerely, "Fifteen thousand warriors are already the limit of my ability to command, and enough to resist the Tarascos. However, this southern expedition may be very difficult. I want ten thousand warriors from the directly controlled legions, as well as one thousand from the Jaguar Regiment as the core. Their obedience is greater, and they can endure for longer."

Tizoc hesitated somewhat. If he agreed, fewer than ten thousand directly controlled warriors would remain at his side, along with one thousand directly controlled Eagle Regiment warriors and five hundred Shorn Guard. These absolutely loyal core forces would be reduced to around ten thousand.

The king looked toward the commander-in-chief he trusted most.

Totek nodded in confirmation. "This is the correct tactical choice. Holding the front line still depends on the directly controlled core. The City-State Legion is willing to bear a far smaller proportion of casualties. The ten thousand directly controlled warriors remaining in the main camp are also enough to command twenty thousand City-State Warriors in the siege."

The theologian king nodded. "Avet, I will give you ten thousand directly controlled warriors. Do you have any other requests?"

Avet considered carefully for a moment. "I need fifteen thousand directly controlled Militia to build and garrison the camps. Finally, I also require command authority over the capital's boat forces, so that I can establish a waterborne grain transport route."

The king gave Avet a long look before majestically agreeing. "All of this is granted to you! Remember: hold the Lerma River to the death. You are not permitted to let the Tarascos cross. If the Tarascos do not attack, you are not permitted to cross the river and strike them on your own! Finally, without my order, you are not permitted to retreat!"

Avet then bowed deeply, hiding his expression and allowing the king to see only his complete obedience.

Once the most important matter of the Southern Route Army had been settled, the rest of the meeting proceeded easily and swiftly.

During this period, the army's supply lines had repeatedly suffered attacks from small Otomi warrior bands and Toltec rebel civilians. The Otomi had cities to rely upon, but the Toltec rebels did not.

Totek therefore dispatched a large number of scouts, who found more than ten villages where Toltecs had gathered deep in the mountains and forests. He then sent two hundred Shorn Guard and eight hundred veteran warriors into the deep woods. These most elite regiment warriors coldly wiped out every Toltec they encountered. The individual fighting prowess of the Shorn Guard surpassed even that of Jaguar Warriors, and almost no rebels escaped.

Now the supply lines had returned to normal. The only enemy of food supplies was the rainy season, dancing upon the wind and thunder, damp and unending.

The council soon ended. During it, King Tizoc had no spare energy to spend on Xolotl, nor did he even ask about the youth's earlier attack. He merely instructed, "Continue studying the Catapult!" Then he resumed discussing other arrangements with Totek.

The army was quickly reorganized. In less than two days, the troops had been divided up.

Thus, on a rainy morning, Avet wore a brilliant Sun Stone cloak, with a heavy banner nearly three meters tall tied to his back. His face firm and resolute, he led an army of thirty thousand as they set out.

There were no horses and no carts. Commanders of every rank could only travel on foot, using their tall back banners to mark their identities. Avet's banner was a huge yellow canopy raised upon a long wooden frame, adorned with equally dazzling green Feathers. This was the mark of the army's supreme commander, ensuring that every soldier could recognize him at a glance.

In this age, anyone lacking physical strength could not become a commander.

At this moment, Avet seemed full of high spirits. After leaving the siege camp, he welcomed the gentle caress of the drizzle, listened to the joyful cries of Swifts, and said to Xolotl with a smile, "Corn has sprouted anew. The rainy season has finally begun!"

Behind the supreme commander clustered one thousand elite Jaguar Regiment warriors, still the core of the army.

The Jaguar Regiment and Eagle Regiment were both advanced shield-bearing regiments. The Jaguar Regiment favored agile, offensive charges, while the Eagle Regiment leaned more toward battlefield formations based around heavy-shield defense. The Shorn Guard were few in number, with more outstanding individual martial skill and absolute loyalty to the king.

The ten thousand directly controlled warriors were high in morale. They were the army's skeleton. Ten directly controlled warrior camps marched in columns before and behind, leading five thousand City-State Warriors of ordinary morale while also maintaining order among the fifteen thousand Militia carrying food.

Thus, thirty thousand men threaded through the endless drizzle. The army trod upon soft forest mud and followed the gradually gentler slopes of the mountains. After marching for a week, they finally reached the banks of the Lerma River.

Xolotl climbed a high hill and looked over both banks of the great river. Beneath his feet lay rolling hills and trees; across the water were interwoven gentle slopes and fields, where Tarasco scouts could faintly be seen. On both sides of the river were relatively flat floodplains, stretching without end to east and west.

He first gazed westward. The hundreds-of-meters-wide Long River surged toward the west, passing Lake Chapala on the Tarasco western border before winding into the distant Pacific Ocean. Then he looked eastward. Traveling upstream here by Canoe, one could reach the western Mexica city-states in only ten days, then the flourishing Valley of Mexico, all the way to the great Lake Capital.

Canoes and small boats are still too slow. Going upstream, they can manage only a little over twenty kilometers a day. If there were steamships from the Celestial Empire, east and west could be connected in just a few days. Xolotl thought absently. Yet shipbuilding technology was too difficult; it was not something one person could simply devise from nothing.

The Lerma River, this seven-hundred-and-fifty-kilometer Long River, rose from the heart of the Mexican Plateau. It connected the empire's three capital cities, the western Mexica cities, the Otomi city-state cluster, and the Tarasco city-state cluster, flowing straight into the farthest western Pacific Ocean.

"This truly is the core waterway of a Mesoamerican empire!" Xolotl sighed. Canals were the lifeblood of classical empires, and the lands surrounding them formed the core regions of effective rule.

The youth's thoughts seemed to cross time and space, reaching that distant and flourishing future. "The Tampico River in the north, the Lerma River in the center, and the Balsas River in the south will be the empire's future Yellow River, Yangtze River, and Pearl River!"