Chapter 288 Tribal Election
The light clouds drift away, the midday sun shines brightly, and the sky in the mountain city returns to tranquility. The frightened songbirds gathered again and sang loudly in the world above their heads, just like the distant sounds from the Kingdom of God.
Black Wolf's royal flag is flying high among the birds and is erected in the tribal square in the center of the mountain city. The mountain city has a long history, and the buildings in the city still retain many of the styles of the tribal era. In the center of the tribal square is a huge fire pit. The blazing bonfire changes in the wind, burning red light, blazing heat and green smoke. Not far away from the square to the east is a thick earthen platform surrounded by bluestones. There are various flying flags on the earth platform, and under the earth platform, the ashes and relics of more than ten generations of mountain city leaders are buried.
At this moment, hundreds of tribal leaders and noble warriors were sitting in a circle around the fire pit. Shulot, with dozens of personal guards, sat in the east where the sun rose. Behind him were the graves of the ancestors of the Otomi people.
The sun brings new life, the earth embraces death. Rebirth and death are everlasting images in Mesoamerican culture. In the past hundreds of years, the Otomi people discussed affairs, gathered, ate, sang and danced, held religious ceremonies, and even have trysts between men and women in the square. All this is done under the gaze of the ancestors, just like today's chief election.
The tribal leaders formed a circle. They looked at the two legion commanders in the center, in front of the fire pit, with different eyes.
Giowa wore a cane hat with feathers on his head, extremely heavy cotton armor, and a covering robe. At this moment, he was holding a sharp war stick and an expensive copper ax on his waist, looking up at the opponent in front of him.
"Nelpa, give up, you don't have any chance! You are the warrior leader of the tribe who is good at fighting. Your bravery should be used on the battlefield, not here!"
"Giowa, although I don't understand the governance of the city-state, I have the heart of an Otomi!"
Nelpa is also armed with a war club. He is about thirty years old, relatively young, strong, and an extremely outstanding warrior. There were several pattern-like scars on both sides of his cheeks, like butterflies spreading their wings. This gradually increasing pattern is a symbol of the warrior's achievements, similar to the records of killing ten people and killing twenty people.
"Priest Saka is right. Under your Otomi appearance, you already have a Mexica heart!"
Nerpa looked at the black wolf's king's flag in the east of the square, and at His Highness Mexica sitting in front of the tomb of his ancestors, with anger in his eyes.
"Giowa, for the sake of the independent future of the Otomi people, I must stop you and the Ort priest from traveling on the wrong path!"
"Nelpa, your soul is lost in the mountains and forests, shrouded in fog, and you are no longer able to communicate. Then follow the tribe's tradition and let the tribe leaders decide!"
Giowa frowned, looked at the warrior in front of him who was brainwashed by the Saka priest, and shook his head helplessly. Then, he looked at the tribal leaders sitting around the field. The final election was right in front of him.
“Praise the Lord God!”
Shulot stood up and walked towards the center of the square. Behind him were the warrior chief and the black wolf who followed closely. Under the awe-inspiring eyes of everyone, the king walked up to Giowa and raised the scepter in his hand.
"Before the tribal election, I want to inform all leaders that I come with legion and goodwill!"
The king's eyes were as sharp as an eagle's, sweeping over everyone present. The leaders bowed their heads one after another to show respect.
"My goodwill is only given to people I trust! Giowa is my blood-blooded younger brother. He once risked his life and fought for me! I will give him protection throughout his life. If he becomes the leader of the mountain city , I will represent the powerful alliance and protect the ancestral land of the Otomi people!”
There was a low murmur in the square. Saka looked solemn, immediately stood up from the ground, and shouted to the leaders present.
"Chiefs of the Otomi people! Please don't forget the wars and famines of the past, and forget what the Mexica people have done to us! They respect the god of war and are cruel and greedy beasts. They are constantly looking for sacrifices. The hunger will never be quelled! Now, they are extending their claws to the ancestral land of the mountain city and the necks of millions of Otomi people!"
After hearing the words of Priest Saka, the discussion became slightly louder. Some leaders showed hesitation, but most of the tribal leaders had gleaming expressions and were unmoved. If they can control the tribe and the lives of thousands of people, they will not be easily incited by hateful words like the lower-level warriors.
"My children! The dog descendants are going south, and the Otomi people are in crisis! Most of the northern Parmus state has fallen, and the barbarians have settled in our homeland. The war continues, and today's spring plowing will be delayed a lot. New Famine is here!"
The old priest of Alter looked solemn, stood up, and shouted loudly.
"The Otomi people need warriors who are good at fighting, and they also need food to tide over the difficulties! At this moment of survival, the ancestral gods give us the light to protect us! The Lake Kingdom in the south is our reliable friend. And His Highness Shulot is The sun of the Otomi!”
The words of the old priest spread far and wide, and the tribal leaders fell silent for a moment, and then let out a low cry. The title "sun" is not used lightly, because in the concept of all parts of the world, the sun is supreme and is the master who rules the heaven and earth. And calling a person the sun often means surrender!
The disorderly noise continued for a while before gradually quieting down. A chief from Parmus State stood up first. He bowed respectfully to the king, and then spoke urgently on behalf of the Otomi tribe in the north.
"Dear Your Highness Mexica, Mespa from Palm State salutes you! The beasts in the jungle obey the strong, and the Otomi people in the north need your protection! As long as you can send your legions north, we are willing to pay tribute to you! You surrender and fight under your banner!”
Xiuluo nodded and smiled lightly. He looked around the venue again, then lowered his staff and struck a "ding dong" with the end of it.
"The light of the Lord God also shines on the Otomi people! However, the blessing of the gods requires pious dedication, and the gift of fate has already been marked with a price! Otomi people, I come with the goodwill of the king, and I am waiting for you. of goodwill!”
The tribal leaders looked at each other for a while, and then another middle-aged chief from Guamare State stood up.
"Praise the God of War! Your Highness, we are in awe of your courage to enter the city, obey your divine authority, and believe in the choice of the Ort priests! Destiny is like a raging river, we approach Him with our shadows, and we will always have to Keep your legs in the water but.”
Having said this, the middle-aged chief paused and looked at the king cautiously.
"There are endless canine descendants in the wasteland. The north of the plateau is always barren, and the far north is a desert. The Otomi people can only fight, build cities and farm land! We don't have the property of the southern tribes, nor do we have the rich rainforest. Output. We are hungry for your help, what can we give in exchange?”
Hearing this implicitly critical question, Shulot's eyes became dark.
"I am a generous king. I will not interfere with the small population that you can feed, nor will I covet the fields that you can cultivate, nor will I seek control of the mountain city. Each tribe of the Otomi people will elect their own leaders and inherit the glory of their ancestors. However, you must bathe in the light of the Lord God and accept the divine guidance! You must gather under my banner and fight for the divine will! You must fight with loyalty and fearlessness in exchange for the reward of wealth and glory!”
Full of meaning, he continued with a smile.
"Of course, the basis of all this is our mutual trust and the leader election before us!"
Hearing this, the middle-aged chief nodded in understanding. He bowed his head solemnly and saluted.
"Your Highness, I greet you. I am Chalki of Guamarebon, please remember my name."
"Okay! The sun has risen to its highest point, and the ancestor gods are watching the earth. Now, let the election begin!"
The bone trumpet was playing, and an old female voice sounded, just like the tribal era thousands of years ago. The old priest took a step forward and raised the staff in his hand. The Saka priest opposite looked livid and took a step forward at the same time. The wife of the former leader Oquili walked into the middle of the venue, walked between the two group leaders, and continued to shout in a sharp voice.
"Chiefs, the Ancestral God is watching us! According to the traditional practice, use your feet to follow the person you choose! Those who support Nerpa, stand behind the Saka priests. Those who support Giowa, stand behind the Ort priests. Behind me! The ancestors witness everything, and all tribes must abide by the resolution of the tribal meeting, and the Otomi people must not be divided!"
The Otomi leaders looked at each other for a moment, stood up silently, and voted with their feet. Chief Mespa was the first to stand up and walked behind Priest Ort, followed by many leaders of Parmus State. Then, Chief Chalki nodded to the old priest, and followed closely with the leaders of Guamare State. A quarrel broke out among the leaders of Otopan State, and they finally broke up. Thirty percent of them went to the Saka priest, and seventy percent came behind Alter.
The final result is clear at a glance. The old priest straightened his back, with a vast mass of darkness behind him; Saka looked gloomy, and there were only a few twenty or thirty people behind him. Nearly 90% of the Otomi leaders finally chose to support Giowa and became the military leader of the ancestral mountain city and the nominal talker of the Otomi Alliance!
"The ancestors witnessed in the tomb that a new leader has been born! The tribal meeting decided that the leader of the ancestral land in the mountain city and the heir to the ancestral scepter is"
The old female voice sounded again, but was suddenly interrupted by a loud roar.
"Ancestors and gods witness! Giowa, you traitor to the tribe!"
Seeing that the situation in front of her was irreversible, Nelpa gritted her teeth, her face showing her will to die. He suddenly raised his war stick and roared loudly.
"I swear with the dignity of a warrior, and with the equal honorary status, I challenge you to a sacred battle! The graves of our ancestors are also our graves. I will fight with you until the death!"
"Nelpa, are you crazy? You risked your life to challenge me for a fight?"
Giowa looked surprised, even a little incredulous. He looked at the determined middle-aged warrior in front of him as if he were looking at a stubborn stone.
Even though he failed to participate in the tribal election, Nerpa is still a powerful tribal leader with a distinguished status and has thousands of warriors in his hands without fear of his life. The sacred fight is a fight to the death, only between two parties of equal status, and it will inevitably end with the fall of one party. Although this is an ancient tradition for resolving major conflicts in the tribe and a martial custom left over from the tribal era, it has not happened among the leaders for many years.
"Giowa, if you are a coward who is afraid of fighting, please step down from your position as leader! Only a leader who is not afraid of life and death can lead the Otomi people to life!"
Hearing this, Giowa looked at the leaders present and frowned deeply. Among the tribes on the plateau that advocate bravery, cowardice is the most despicable insult. The words have reached this point. Although he has the power to refuse Nelpa's challenge, it will leave a lifelong stain. How will he convince the public in the future? What's more, Giowa narrowed his narrow eyes, stretched out his hand to press the robe around his waist, and then relaxed his brows.
“Nerpa, since you are determined to die, come on!”