Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 618 - 314: Full Moon and Lone Wolf

The low chieftain’s longhouse was dark, the dense scent of mixed herbs lingering heavily. The faint moonlight fell into the room, illuminating two figures sitting opposite each other. Around the shadows was a circle of sacrificial bones, and a silent quietude.

Red Crow Chieftain Kakalo hung his head without speaking. He reached out his thin arm, picked up a pine flute from the ground, and put it to his lips. The ethereal flute sound rose in an instant, wailing into the night, its sound distant and desolate, like a call from the wilderness.

Outside the longhouse, Aran’s eyes widened. This was the flute music the chieftain always played during every Moon God’s sacrificial rite. She listened to the flute in silence, watching the full moon above, thinking of the lone wolves on the wilderness. She closed her eyes, reminiscing of once-loved ones and home, and contemplated the wolf’s resilience and loneliness. Memories of the old days drifted away like the long wind, and the desolate flute sound did not last long before everything abruptly stopped.

Kakalo slowly put down the wooden flute. He raised his head and looked at Amoxtli.

"My child, what did you hear?"

Amoxtli opened his eyes, revealing a hint of longing.

"Chieftain, I heard the Moon God’s sacrificial rites and blessings. Under the full moon, the world has eagles flying afar, and expansive highlands..."

"Aximo, the world of the wilderness is vast. Tribes are constantly migrating, eagles soaring away in flight, everything is for the sake of life and hope, inheritance, and continuation. Now this valley has become a deadly land, and dark shadows come from the south. We cannot resist the shadows, so it’s time to leave... cough cough!"

Kakalo began to speak slowly, the wrinkles on his face trembling, appearing especially old. However, his calm narration was interrupted by a violent cough, and the old chieftain doubled over in pain, covering his mouth fiercely. Amoxtli immediately stepped forward to help the respected chieftain, patting his back to ease his breath.

After a while, Kakalo stopped coughing. He let go of his hand, but in his palm was a dazzling bright red. The old chieftain silently clenched his hand again and said in a deep voice.

"Aximo, pass the message along. Leave behind unnecessary baggage; we will only bring food... we leave tonight!"

"Ah?! We leave tonight?"

Amoxtli was somewhat surprised.

"Yes, leave tonight! From a single withered leaf, one can see the entire autumn barrenness. The Aztec’s reinforcement will arrive at the valley entrance tomorrow, danger is imminent, we can no longer delay! In the past few days, we gathered some unripe corn, and together with the previous pumpkins, the tribe’s food can last another four or five months. Once we escape this deadly land, there will be new opportunities!... cough cough!"

Kakalo issued his orders sharply, then coughed again. Amoxtli was about to step forward when he saw the old chieftain gesture heavily with his hand.

"Cough cough... I’m fine! Hurry, send envoys to inform the friendly Tribes near the valley entrance: the Aztec Great Chief is coming with reinforcements. His witchcraft is more powerful, his wisdom more profound, and he will certainly not overlook the northwest valley entrance! Holding the valley is a dead end; flee as soon as possible!..."

"Aximo, the battle at the valley entrance was so fierce, the Tribes were already fearful. The three Great Tribes aggressively absorbed the others, leaving ordinary ones in panic. Now that the enemy’s reinforcements are coming, it is the perfect opportunity for us to retreat—there will be no one to block our way now! The main force of the Red Frog Tribe has been arranged at the eastern valley entrance, and that old fox is also thinking of retreating. We must leave before him!..."

"After leaving the valley, head north for three days to avoid the Aztec’s blades. Then turn eastward, keep going to the east, cross the towering mountains, and reach the Vastec’s territory! Guajili’s opportunity for life lies to the east and north..."

Kakalo paused. His eyes, profound, gazed at the Amoxtli in front of him, as if looking at some sort of hope. Then, he slowly opened his hand, showing a large clump of bright red.

"Aximo, I have said all that I needed to say. Some things don’t need to be spoken but are for you to realize on your own. Tonight’s retreat is for you to command!..."

"But that, coughing up blood! Chieftain, you... you won’t... "

Amoxtli’s expression drastically changed. He looked at the red in Kakalo’s palm, as if seeing a raging flood or fierce beast. Deep fear appeared for the first time on the face of this steadfast man, a fear reminiscent of countless past farewells. His eyes widened, and he cried out in anguish.

"Chieftain... Father!..."

"My child, it’s okay, don’t be sad... My journey has come to an end, I cannot go any further, nor do I wish to. Let me stay here quietly, let me leave this world alone... Aximo, you have a long road ahead of you. You must carry hope and soar across the wilderness like a mighty eagle. From today on, the Red Crow Tribe is in your hands!... Cough, cough!"

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"Father!..."

"I’m tired, now go. Do not come back in... Hurry, take the men and children and leave!"

Having said that, Kakalo lowered his head, no longer looking at Aximo’s face, and stopped speaking. The longhouse was filled with a silence akin to death.

Aximo remained silent for a long while before slowly kneeling to the ground and giving the old chieftain three deep bows. Then, with grief stricken in his eyes, he painfully turned and left. However, as he stepped out of the chieftain’s longhouse, his sorrow transformed into determination, into a stern cry.

"Everyone! Pack up, we must hurry and prepare for the tribe’s migration! Within two hours, all able-bodied men and children must set off! All envoys of the tribes, come quickly!"

The suppressed cries scattered through the night wind in the valley. Soon, the entire camp bustled with activity, with several envoys carrying verbal messages away, sprinting toward the tribes near the valley entrance to deliver urgent news.

Aximo stood by the bright bonfire, his gaze fixed on the dark longhouse. His heart felt as if it had split in two, one part fallen into the flames, the other engulfed in darkness. Then, a voice as delicate as a sparrow’s song came, waking him from his silence.

"Father! Why won’t the grand chieftain come out? I heard him coughing!"

Ala stood before him like a little deer, her eyes as bright as the full moon.

Aximo reached out, rubbing Ala’s head vigorously. Then, lowering his gaze, he spoke softly.

"Ala, the grand chieftain has always cherished you dearly. He doesn’t want to come out, nor does he allow me to go in. When the alpha wolf of the wilderness grows old enough, he leaves the pack alone, seeking a hill under the full moon to lie down quietly... Today happens to be the full moon. Ala, go inside. Before we leave, see the grand chieftain one last time."

Ala stood frozen in place, her eyes misting over. She looked toward her father, but Aximo was striding away, loudly commanding the migration of the tribe. Ala then looked towards the dark longhouse, hesitating for a long while before carefully stepping inside.

Kakalo was still sitting, head bowed, amidst a pile of bones. Hearing the sound, he lifted his eyes, his aged face breaking into a gentle smile.

"Ala, is that you?"

Ala approached and squatted down next to the old chieftain. The Obsidian Dagger strapped to her thigh clinked against the bones. The girl extended both hands, gripping Kakalo’s arms firmly.

"Grand chieftain, it’s me, I’ve come to see you! Ugh, it’s so dark inside, I can’t see your face clearly. Shall I light the fire pit?"

"Child, we must always face the darkness..."

But Ala, being resolute, didn’t wait for Kakalo to finish speaking and quickly ignited the fire pit, then, using the light of the fire, she intently stared at the grand chieftain’s weathered face, as if to imprint his visage in her memory forever.

Kakalo chuckled quietly to himself. He shook his head, his gaze resting on Ala’s Obsidian Dagger. The old chieftain pondered for a while, and then gestured with his hand.

"Ala, give me the dagger. The black wolf head on it is a symbol of the Mexica deities, I seem to have heard about it somewhere..."

The full moon gradually sank westward, and the night fell into depth, yet the valley’s northwestern entrance started to awaken. Thousands of torches blazed at the entrance, as several Tribes, carrying torches, migrated like a howling pack of wolves.