Chapter 369: Death of Ashlot

Hearing this, Xiuluot's heart shuddered. He looked cold and glanced at the old priest Taiya indifferently.

Feeling the king's killing intention, the old priest Taiya's knees weakened, and he collapsed directly to the ground, begging in a low voice.

"Your Majesty, I, I am devoted to the kingdom, and I don't know anything about Arnold's affairs!"

Xiuluot ignored the old priest. He had a blank expression, suppressed the fear in his heart, and sneered.

"Haha, Ashuluot, there is a person like you among the dog race! In order to avenge Chichika, you can hide from everyone and get close to me?"

Hearing this, Bertard looked ashamed. He silently clenched the bronze sword and stared at Ashuluot's neck, like a jaguar about to hunt.

"Your Majesty, I, I'm really not"

Ashuluot trembled all over. He felt the breath of death.

Looking at the performance of his old opponent, Ozoma sneered disdainfully.

"Ha! Ashurot! Your story has been exposed, what are you still trying to refute! You should have died on the night the tribe was defeated! You are the chief of a large tribe in the wilderness, how come you don't have the courage to die calmly!"

"."

Ashurot was speechless for a moment. He was stunned for a while and sighed.

"Yes! I should have died a long time ago! So many warriors have died, the tribe is gone, and the leader Chichika is dead. What am I still living for? Things have come to this point, it's just a death!"

After saying that, Ashurot looked at the old priest Taiya and nodded calmly.

"Priest Taiya, I'm sorry for hiding my identity from you. I'm not Arnold, I'm Ashurot!"

Xuluot looked at this scene and nodded slowly. Warriors go to death calmly, blooming and withering like flowers, which is most in line with the aesthetics of the Mexica. He praised in a deep voice.

"Axulot, you endured humiliation and risked your life to assassinate me for the hatred of the tribe, regardless of your own life and death. You are a warrior worthy of respect! Since you are a warrior, I will use the courtesy of a warrior to bid you farewell. Do you have any poems left?"

"Poems."

Axulot was stunned for a while and chanted in a low voice.

"I am a salamander trapped in a pond, suffering from the pain of not being able to grow up. Then, I climbed out of the pond, shed my gills and long tail, but I died on the shore of the pond without walking feet. From life to death, I gained eternal transcendence!"

"Good!"

After listening, Black Wolf Toltec couldn't help but exclaimed. Bertard smiled quietly. Xulot lowered his eyes. In the ancient Mesoamerican mythology, the salamander's life and death is the process of the imprisoned soul being liberated and entering a higher realm. And then, the salamander will be resurrected from the dead and experience the reincarnation of new life and death.

"Bertard, send him off with the courtesy of a warrior!"

The warrior chief nodded, put away the bronze sword, and held the obsidian dagger for sacrifice. With a solemn face, he walked to Ashurot and put the sharp dagger on his neck, leaving a faint blood mark.

"Don't worry, it will be quick."

Bertard said softly.

Ashurot closed his eyes and waited for death. The cold sting came from the skin of his neck, and his five senses seemed to be sharp in an instant. Then, he heard a deep breath, which was the precursor of the warrior chief's strength.

"In the next second, I will die!"

At this moment of death, great terror suddenly struck. Ashurot's mind was shaken, as if he had fallen into a bottomless abyss. He suddenly opened his eyes and shouted with all his might in Bertard's surprised eyes.

"Your Majesty! I surrender! I am willing to serve you!"

The air suddenly became quiet. This feeling is like the last second, you are quietly sniffing a beautiful fragrant flower, and then the next second, a buzzing fly suddenly flew out from the pistil.

"Your Majesty, I am really not an assassin! I was captured and went south, and I just want to spend the rest of my life honestly. I hid in the crowd today and never thought of approaching you! And I really didn't know about the recommendation of the Taiya priest!"

Axulot tried to tilt his head away from the dagger of the warrior leader. He prayed loudly, like a mourning dove.

"Your Majesty, I am familiar with the tribes of the wilderness, and I am willing to serve you! I, I can give you advice on the governance of the tribal village!"

Xuluot lowered his eyes and did not speak. He opened his eyes indifferently until Ashuluot finished the last sentence.

"Oh? What suggestions do you have for the governance of the tribal village?"

"Uh"

Axulot looked at Bertard carefully, and the warrior leader calmly put away the dagger. Then, Chief Red Newt thought quickly and answered hesitantly.

"Praise your majesty! Praise the Lord! I have been in the tribal village for several months, and many places in the village are in a mess. Since your majesty forcibly disrupted the tribe and formed a flag team, the traditional order of the wilderness has disappeared, and the tribesmen are panic-stricken, and no new rules have been established."

As he spoke, Ashuluot's thoughts became much clearer. After all, he has been in the wilderness for many years, and has been in deep contact with the situation in the village, and has a thorough grasp of the tribe's hearts.

"Your majesty, after all, the tribe respects the strong. When in the wilderness, each department is divided into three levels: red-haired, warrior, and young. The red-haired hunter is not only the most elite warrior, but also the captain of the hunting team. They actually manage the tribe's teams. Only under their command can the entire tribe be as flexible as an arm and migrate thousands of miles."

"Now, you have forcibly disrupted the tribes and recruited all the warriors, leaving only strong men from different tribes. The tribal villages have lost their rank. We, the Guakili tribe, have always only feared the strong and relied solely on dispatched troops. The priest or the village chief cannot control them."

"Well, that makes some sense."

Shulot listened for a while and nodded in agreement. The current problem in the villages of the Inu clan is that they have indeed lost their hierarchy and order. By drawing on elites, the kingdom destroyed the canine descendants' ability to cause chaos, but it also made them difficult to command.

"Ashlot, what suggestions do you have to solve this problem?"

"Your Majesty, the simplest way is to send some red-haired warriors back to the villages and restore the traditional order in the wasteland."

Hearing this, Shulot shook his head. The kingdom had finally managed to extract the canine elites, and it had disrupted the traditional tribal order. How could it possibly let them go back?

"Your Majesty, the second way is to select warriors who are good warriors from the Cactus tribe, send them to the tribal villages, and lead them directly!"

Hearing this, Shulot raised his eyebrows. The kingdom's warriors were also limited and could not station too many in the village. He stared into Ashulote's eyes and asked calmly.

"You said one or two, there must be a third one."

"."

Ashulote nodded but said nothing. He opened his eyes wide and looked at the king expectantly.

"Say it. If you say it well, I will spare your life."

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

Ashulote licked his dry lips and replied in a deep voice.

"Your Majesty, you have set up a flag team of 8,000 people and a small flag team of 400 people. Then under the small flag team, there will be an additional level, account."

"account?"

Shulot was thoughtful as he listened to this familiar concept.

"Yes. There are 50-100 people in a tent, and there are 15-30 tribes, which is roughly equivalent to the smallest tribe in the wilderness tribe. In a small flag team of 400 people, a leader's tent of 100 people can be set up, with four to six dozens of people. There are about three small flag teams in a Guakili village, with more than a thousand people and hundreds of people."

Ashulote paused for a moment, counting the numbers silently. His mathematical ability is obviously higher than that of other canines.

"Then, each village must have at least three powerful elite warriors as village managers. Each of them has a large tent of a hundred people and commands four to six small tents. As for the leaders of the small tents, they can be It’s recommended by dozens of people, and it’s usually the strongest man among them.”

"You mean, I will transfer some warriors and entrust them to take charge of the flag team's big tent. Then the leader of the smaller tent will let the tribesmen fight out themselves. Through the tent level, I will actually manage the village?"

Shulot became somewhat interested. This kind of tribal system always gave him a strange sense of familiarity. Now, he has a small flag team of more than 150 canine descendants. After calculation, he only needs 150 senior warriors. And it just so happened that after a northern expedition, there were almost one or two hundred senior warriors who needed to be divided.

"Your Majesty is wise!"

Ashulote bowed to the ground with difficulty. His eyes flashed, he looked at the king's expression, and said with a smile.

"This is the first suggestion, to set up an account in the flag team."

"oh?"

Shulot pondered for a moment and looked at the warrior commander.

"Bertard, bring him here!"

The warrior commander nodded and brought Ashulote to the king.

"Smart Ashulote, what's your second suggestion?"

"Your Majesty, the second suggestion is to naturalize the wasteland priests. Naturalize the wasteland priests into qualified priests of the main god, and then manage the tribal villages."

Ashulote glanced at the old priest Taia and replied in a low voice. To be honest, with the old priest Taiya's frail physique and weak temperament, if he hadn't been controlling the tribes in the village, he would have been tied up in a sack by the vicious tribesmen and sunk into the lake.

"Converted wilderness priest?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Most of the wasteland priests have strong bodies, strong personalities, can jump and roar, and are good at archery or fighting. Even the old wasteland priests have many 'spells' that they can use to bluff tribes People are afraid to obey.”

Speaking of this, Ashulote smiled vicissitudes of life. In the wilderness, if you don't have the real ability to calm people down, how can you live to old age?

"The tribesmen always have a simple understanding. The more powerful the god is, the more powerful his priests are. If the priests of the gods are so weak, how can they convince the tribesmen?"

"The more powerful the god, the more powerful his priests."

Shulot raised his eyebrows. He understood the subtext. The Guakili tribesmen believe in the strong and their ideas are simple and pure. No matter how good the priest's theory is, it's useless. You have to be able to fight and scare people!

"Well, the kingdom is already doing the naturalization of the wasteland priest. Now it seems that we can speed up the process appropriately."

The king was somewhat satisfied. Ashulote was indeed a talent and worthy of his name.

"What about the third suggestion?"

"Well"

Ashulote pondered for a long time, and scenes of village life flashed before his eyes, turning into words in his heart.

"Your Majesty, the third suggestion is to organize a young hunt."

"Elaborate."

"Tens of thousands of tribes traveled thousands of miles south, but everyone was poor and poor. In the Satskars Wasteland, there were Silver Mountains in several places before. Unfortunately, no one looked at these heavy stones. I didn't expect that the south The tribe respects it so much."

"Now that the tribe is settled here, they are exposed to so many new things. The tribe likes fruits and meat, but they can't afford it; they like comfortable cotton cloth, but they can't afford it; they like convenient pottery, but they can't afford it; they like shiny things. I can’t even afford copperware.”

"The tribesmen can't afford anything, but they still want it. According to the tradition in the wasteland, they just steal and rob. The nearby Prepecha people are very soft, and they don't dare to come and fight for a long time after they robbed their property. , there will be big trouble!”

Ashulote knew in his heart that although the farmers of Prepecha were docile, their warriors were equally murderous. The Death Chief's army is not just a decoration. Once it actually takes action, blood will flow like a river.

"That makes sense, keep talking."

Shulot listened patiently.

"The tribe is so poor that they can only find ways to get some property. Farming is just a living, and the only thing everyone can rely on is the skill of hunting. Which tribesman can't shoot arrows and wield spears? As long as the village organizes the tribesmen to go hunting, and there is a harvest, You can trade the items you need.”

"Well, what are you good at hunting?"

"Shooting birds, catching rabbits, hunting rats, trapping deer, hunting wolves, and capturing prisoners."

Hearing this, Shulot fell into deep thought. Some new ideas gradually came to his mind. After a while, the king nodded.

"When the flag team is reorganized, I will arrange for the leaders of each flag team to organize hunting. The kingdom is short of young men and slaves. After the autumn harvest, there will be a special capture team, led by a jaguar warrior, to go to the south or west. Melon Any strong man from all the tribes of Killi can join.”

"Praise Your Majesty!"

Ashulote kowtowed heavily.

"I will also inform the kingdom to set up a market in the tribal gathering place to trade your hunting harvests. The market will be supervised by dedicated personnel to try to keep the transaction price fair so that you are not deceived by profiteers."

With that said, Xiulote ordered his personal guards to write down the royal order just now. Then he asked with a smile.

"Do you have any other suggestions?"

"Well"

Ashulote racked his brains and reluctantly answered.

"Your Majesty, I have one last suggestion, which can temporarily appease people's hearts, especially the recruited tribal warriors."

"explain!"

"According to wasteland tradition, the tribe highly values ​​red and is even willing to sacrifice their lives for the sacred red. If you can give the warriors red fur, red feathers, or red dye, you are the most generous chief! Of course, if you have A red-haired woman, that’s even better!”

Hearing this, Shulot was slightly startled. He remembered that when the Spanish colonists of later generations "purchased peace" from the Chichimec descendants, they specifically listed one item: giving to hundreds of red-haired women.

"That's a good suggestion. There is no shortage of red fur, feathers, and dyes in the Alliance. Bertard, please record it and reward it as appropriate when you go back."

"Your will be followed, Your Highness."

"Dear Your Majesty, then I."

Ashulote knelt on the ground, looking at the king with hope in his eyes.

Shulot smiled.

"Ashulot, you have died once just now, canceling all the guilt. The divine newt will resurrect from the dead and then change its appearance. What do you want to do next?"

"Ah, praise your Majesty! Thank you for your kindness! I am willing to cross the river, return to the wilderness, and guard the city of Palms for you."

"No."

".Uh. I want to stay in the Guakili village here and be a pious village priest to spread the glory of the Lord God to you."

"No."

".Uh. Everything is subject to His Majesty's arrangements."

"very good."

Shulot smiled and nodded, announcing the answer.

"Axiulote, from today on, you will join my personal guard and follow the king's banner."

In the cruel northern wilderness, there is no one who can get along with the chiefs of the big tribes. Asiulote has the experience of a tribal chief and has been tempered by large-scale wars. How can he be thrown into the canine group casually? It's more reassuring to carry it with you.

"Praise Your Majesty!"

Ashurotfu closed his eyes and knelt on the ground, as if he had exhausted all his strength.

Two steps away, Ozoma and Koka looked at each other. They both wanted to say a lot, but they didn't say anything. The old priest Taiya was kneeling alone in the corner, with no one paying attention and not daring to make a sound. He had been preparing this plan for a long time, but it almost caused huge trouble.

"Priest of Taea."

"Ah! Your Majesty!"

"A new priest will come soon to take over your position."

".I obey you, Your Majesty."

The old priest Taia fell to the ground and lost all his strength in an instant.

"You will be transferred to the Hekou Fortress and serve as a second-level preaching priest."

"Ah!. I obey you, Your Majesty!"

The old priest Taiya was shocked suddenly, and his strength suddenly recovered. He kowtowed to the ground so hard that his voice became louder.

"Well, Bertard, let's go!"

Shulot smiled calmly.

"Ashlot, you come with me."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The king pondered for a while, and looked at Ashulote for the last time.

"Remember, you have already died once. From now on, your name will be Arnold!"