Chapter 847 The Second Kingdom Exploration, Gathering and Parting, Going to the Field to Farm

"Stay here, manage a village, and farm with peace of mind..."

The old militiaman Chihuaco opened his cloudy old eyes and looked at the scene in front of him. Under the bright firelight, there is a confident son, and farther behind, there are farmland and villages at night. The scene at this moment was like in a dream when he was dozing off, warm and somewhat unreal.

"Stay here..."

The old militiaman pursed his lips and fell into a dream, letting his heart beat for a while. But soon, he remembered his duty, thinking of people on the voyage, living and dead...

"Tomato Priest, Mecate Priest, Ash Puap, Merchant Tikalo, Warrior Tavaru...Dark Snake, Didi, Tilan, Tidan..."

The old militiaman was silent for a while, and shook his head slightly under Chippawa's expectant eyes.

"No. I can't stay here...I have to go back, bring back the people in the fleet, and bring back the news about Snake Island in the East China Sea!...I have to report back to that blind...His Majesty..."

Hearing this, the wilderness warrior Chippawa's confident expression froze on his face. He stared blankly at his father for a while, and seeing that firm look in his eyes, he suddenly became angry.

"Father! Why do you go back? Why do you serve the king of the Mexica? Don't forget, the Mexica invaded us! They destroyed the kingdom!"

"...Old kingdoms fall, but new kingdoms are established. Just as the old tree is felled, and a new tree grows... taller, bigger, and with deeper roots..."

The old militiaman shook his head, although his eyes were moist, his words were calm.

"The current king of the kingdom is His Royal Highness of the Mexica people, and even more so, the king of the Prepecha people. After all, he gave the Prepecha people a stable life, increased the grain production in the fields, and made the villagers live well. Much better...in the folk villages in the lake area, farmers who have registered households don't have to worry about famine and seeds, and they won't be unable to eat or raise newborn babies..."

"Not to mention, the warriors, sages, and priests of Preepecha have long been loyal to him, and together with him, they have been conquering everywhere..."

"So...he asked me to go to sea...and I went. And what I encountered this time at sea...is very important! I have to go back alive and report back to him..."

"Ah! How... so? The king of the Prepecha people? . . . "

Hearing this, the wasteland warrior Chippawa gritted his teeth, his chest was burning with anger, but he didn't know who to tell. After all, according to Battalion Commander Zucata, and in his long-standing perception, the Prepecha people should deeply hate the Mexica conquerors, and want to return the royal family of Tarasco...

"Damn! How could this be?..."

Chippawa lowered his head, grabbed the dirt on the ground, and threw it into the fire again. The fire flickered violently for a while, and then returned to calm, just like the unchanging reality.

"Father...then you will go back! Explain the matter...and then come back!"

Hearing this, the old militiaman smiled gratifiedly. Then, with his head down, looking at the calm fire, he called out his son's name for the first time.

"Chippawa! I'm old... old turtles in Prepecha, should have died in the lake where they were born. With your grandma..."

"What's more, there is your sister..."

"Damn it! Then bring my sister here!"

The wasteland warrior Chippawa gritted his teeth and growled lowly, like a depressed wolf.

"You are old...I will raise you! You are dead...I will bury you!..."

"Wow! That's great!  …"

The old militiaman opened his eyes wide and looked at his excited son with a happy smile on his face. He just smiled happily, watching Chippawa calm down, and then said softly.

"Your sister... married a stable husband. After all, she has a stable life. I just want her to be safe and secure, so that I can feel at ease..."

"The Lake Patzcuaro area of ​​the kingdom is very peaceful now, more stable than any other place. But here, you are still fighting and migrating...not to mention, the road is so chaotic..."

Speaking of this, the old militiaman shook his head again. He rubbed his hands, rubbed his old face, and wiped away the old tears from the corners of his eyes. Although he knew that there was little hope, he still asked in a low voice.

"I was thinking, otherwise... you... come back to the kingdom with me?"

"What? Back to the kingdom?! What's there?... Is there any fish to eat? Haha!"

Hearing this, the wasteland warrior Chippawa was startled, and suddenly laughed. He smiled and laughed, and tears flowed from his eyes.

"Father! The Kingdom has my past. But in the past, I was just a boy in the village! Timid, thin, bullied, and powerless... But here? I am a follower of Sister Alan, and I am brave The tribal warrior is the captain of the elite centurion!...I was even the deputy of Battalion Commander Zucata, participating in the training and management of the Long Spear Battalion!..."

The wasteland warrior Chippawa raised his head, looking at the endless flat wasteland, and at the vast sky of the wasteland. After a while, he rubbed his cheeks, pointed to the tattooed face on his face, and said in a deep voice.

"Father, I can't go back. I have engraved the mark of the wasteland, and I belong here! Here is the earth and sky I want..."

Chihuaco, the old militiaman, was silent and nodded. The feeling in his heart at this moment is both sadness and relief, like sweet and sour fruit wine. However, his alcohol capacity has never been good, just this glass of new wine made him want to get drunk.

"Well...Chippawa, my baby...I'm happy that you are promising. You have your own way to go, which is different from me...I only ask you for one thing..."

Having said that, the old militiaman raised his head and looked into Chippawa's eyes. The father and son looked at each other quietly until the tattooed son nodded slowly.

"Father, tell me! I promise you..."

"Okay!...From now on, no matter what you encounter...you have to work hard to live and live. Similarly, if you can, you have to let others live and give others a chance to live..."

"Me? Someone else? ... Alive? ..."

The wasteland warrior Chippawa's expression changed, chewing this heavy word carefully. Although he didn't quite understand at the moment, he still nodded vigorously.

"Okay! Dad, I promise you!"

"Good! Wow! Wow!"

The old militiaman laughed again. He smiled, covered his old face, and turned around. Chippawa, who was on the opposite side, also turned his back here. The father and son leaned back to back like this, just like when they were young.

At this moment, they couldn't see each other's faces, but they could feel the people behind them. This eased the heaviness in their hearts and made them more at ease.

The rivers of life will meet, and they are destined to separate. No matter whether they are closely connected or not, they will still walk on their own rivers and meet different banks... until the final death, let them be quiet or sing, and merge into the endless deep sea, no matter who comes first...

"Father, when do you want to leave?"

"Try to hurry up! I'm going to the southern coast, further south of the Silver Crow tribe..."

"To the south coast?"

Hearing this, the wasteland warrior Chipawa thought for a while and said in a deep voice.

"The southern coast is still at war! The tribe is conquering the various tribes of Vastec... If you want to go, I have to inform Sister Alan first. Then, I have to tell the great chief who sits in the south. It will take a lot of time to go back and forth. , you can't rush!..."

"Sister Alan?"

Hearing the name that was mentioned repeatedly, the old militiaman pondered for a while, and asked aloud.

"who is she?"

"Her? She is the daughter of the great chief, the minor chief of the north, and the heir of the Red Crow tribe..."

Speaking of this, Chipawa, the wasteland warrior, had a yearning smile on his face.

"Father! To me, she is our leader, my sister Alan! She is a powerful huntress, a powerful female warrior, and a powerful female chieftain! Also... the moon in the sky."

"Oh...awesome!...the moon."

The old militiaman lowered his head and leaned against his son behind him, as if feeling those complicated emotions. He pursed his lips, not knowing what to say. After all, he knew nothing about the Red Crow tribe.

"Well... the deer will follow the head deer, and the wolf will follow the head wolf to bite... You just follow her and work hard! You must also live well... live."

"Don't worry! Father! Sister Alan treats me very well!"

The wasteland warrior Chippawa nodded vigorously and smiled happily. The old militiaman scratched his hair and asked again.

"Then... what are you doing here...?"

"Oh! I took the warriors and followed Sister Alan to fight on the northern grasslands. She assigned me a new job. She took the newly subdued tribal warriors to migrate to the Huastec immigrants in the south, and then went to Warrior Lake to reclaim and build land. The village... There are already 80,000 to 90,000 tribes there, all of whom are our people, and they are very prosperous. It's just that there is not enough food..."

"Father! From Otter City to the north, between the plateau and the sea, the plains of seven or eight hundred miles...are ours now! Such a large piece of land, such a large mountain, river and sea, are all ours!...We red The Crow tribe, with more than 200,000 people, is the most powerful tribe in the North!..."

The wasteland warrior Chippawa raised his head and announced proudly. The old militiaman's eyes flickered, he didn't pay attention to his son's bold words after that, but only noticed the first few sentences.

"You said... you are migrating... farming... not enough food?"

"That's right! This small village like Vastyk was established just after migrating from the south in the past few years. There is not much food left in the village, otherwise more people could be moved in..."

"Farming...food..."

The old militiaman pondered for a while, then suddenly turned around and grabbed his son's hand.

"Chippawa! . . . "

"ah?"

"Father doesn't know anything else... help you farm, but he will..."

The old militiaman looked serious, with a serious expression that had never been seen before. Seeing his father like this, Chipawa also became serious.

"father?"

"This time... I brought back some cassava stalks from the Feathered Serpent God's Snake Island... It is easy to grow and live very well. It is not afraid of insect damage, and the yield is scary. The skin is poisonous, very poisonous. So when you eat, you have to peel the skin and soak it in water, it can't be stored for too long..."

"What? Tapioca? Dad! What's that?"

"Uh...it's a good thing, edible, high-yielding grain! It doesn't pick the ground at all, it just needs to be planted in a warmer place. But I feel that it's quite hot here, and it should be able to grow...even if it's colder, that is Less harvest, but certainly more than corn and squash, much more!  …”

The old militiaman showed joy and said a lot in one breath. However, Chippawa's face was blank. Seeing this, the old militiaman slapped his thigh heavily, and then pinched his son's arm hard.

"Are you listening? Do you understand?"

"Ah? Dad? What are you talking about?"

"I said…"

The old militiaman stretched out his hand, grabbed his son by the ear for the first time in many years, and shouted loudly.

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow you will be with me..."

"Go to the fields to farm!..."