Aztec Eternals Chapter 96

The clear and cheerful sound of the flute penetrated through the thick stone walls, accompanied by the rhythm of neat drum beats, echoing in the dark stone room. Shiloh sat up and listened, and the little green snake swayed with his movements, faintly singing to the quaint priests.

After a while, the little green snake nimbly swept across his chest, its cool tail swept across his neck, and disappeared in a flash. Sherlot looked up in the direction of the door. Sure enough, a moment later, the Shimen rumbled open.

Under the faint candlelight, the elder nodded to him. He glanced at the faint yellow potion on the ground, then glanced at the intact young man, and then turned away. Shiloh stood up quickly and followed behind the elder. The captain of the guard easily exerted his strength and closed the heavy stone gate. The three of them went to the top of the palace.

Having not acted for a long time, Shulot was a little unsteady in his steps. Fortunately, the old man walked very slowly, and the melodious flute has turned ten different melodies. The beating drums are mixed with loud gongs, and there are crisp copper bells in the music. He gradually heard high-pitched chants, thousands of songs, and hundreds of thousands of boiling cheers.

Finally, Shilot finally came to the top of the palace and stood at the open window. He first closed his eyes slightly to adjust, and then opened his eyes to look down: from the temple of the Great Temple down, there was already infinite light, a sea of ​​joy and boiling!

Shulot looked down from a height of 60 meters. Under the dazzling sunlight, it was a capital of more than ten square kilometers, with a crowd of 300,000 celebrating. Countless boats have been docked by the lake in the outermost Texcoco, and tens of thousands of villagers dressed up and came from dozens of miles away. Young men and women dressed in bright costumes, wealthy families waving flags of the gods, singing and dancing, under the guidance of village priests, gradually gathered in the city center.

"The venerable King Avit will ascend to the throne today, and the new sun will bless the people of Mexica. Celebrate! Cheers! This is the festival of gods and men!" The priests chanted loudly and walked all the way.

And as the crowd moved, Shulot's gaze came to the inner city community. There, the ceremony has begun.

Nearly a hundred communities in the north and south of the capital started prayer ceremonies in the shrine at the same time. Rosin and sandalwood lingered throughout the capital. The priests set up altars outside the shrine, chanted and danced sacrificial dances. Residents of the community gathered in circles, waving their hands and jumping, singing loudly, praying for the protection of the patron saint, and praying for a good harvest in the coming year.

The enthusiastic young men and women clashed and danced in the circle. They carry strings of crisp stones, beautiful shells, or delicate copper bells. They kept colliding with each other in a happy dance, making jingling sounds. Along with the collective dance, there are bold, interlaced eyes and a confidently displayed body. From time to time, young people recite impromptu poems dedicated to the girl in front of them.

"My heart longs for the nourishment of flowers, I endure the pain of music, and I only have God and you in my heart!" A young man boldly held the hand of the girl he liked and offered the most beautiful shell.

The crowd of onlookers applauded. The girl bowed her head slightly and withdrew her hand. Quietly pointed to the sun in the sky, made a falling gesture, and then pointed to the boat by the lake. The young man nodded excitedly and danced enthusiastically around the girl. There was another burst of laughter around. This is the movement of the common people.

Shulot was shocked and lost his mind. He continued to look at the beautiful inner city area. In the central square of the capital and the surrounding noble courtyards, more professional music, dance, drama and poetry are being performed.

Nobles and warriors built stone platforms of their own families, on the stone platforms they did their best to put expensive jade jewelry, bright feathers and shells, glittering gold and silver ornaments, as well as gorgeous clothing feather fans, and majestic weapons and shields. . Of course, there are also scented flowers, which are a blessing to the gods.

Professional bands and dancers are playing around the stone platform. The most popular instrument is the cheerful and melodious flute, the single-pipe flute has begun to use fifth notes, while the double-pipe and triple-pipe flutes even have 16 tones. The sound of the flute sometimes flies in the sky, and sometimes swirls under the feet, but it is always entangled in my heart. The noble girls danced in the beautiful melody, the skirts were flying, and the clear singing and the flute ensemble.

"I am a bouncing cardinal, singing out a perfect note, just like the singing voice of a thrush, waiting for you to lean over for a kiss." This is the movement of the nobility.

Going out a little, the experienced musician picked up a rubber stick, and sometimes thumped the teplestelli, the solid wooden gong bang bang bang, and then changed to Hughueter, the hollow wooden drum bang dong dong. With this distinct rhythm, the samurai danced an exciting battle dance, waving the swords decorated with gold and jade, and the ornate shields built with rotating shells, and generously sang war and death.

"Samurai should be like falling flowers, water the soil with blood, and raise their souls to the kingdom of God!" This is the movement of the samurai.

And in the highest-ranking song, professional actors performed dramas praising the gods and recited beautiful poems one after another. The maids wore only shorts that save fabrics and gracefully danced around the actors. High-ranking parents and elders sat around and watched.

Dressed in cloaks of jade and feathers, they sipped tequila and cider, and ate a variety of delicate snacks, including tortillas, sweet potatoes, grilled fish nuggets, jerky bacon, raw tomatoes, pumpkin seeds, roasted algae , roasted worms, and delicious and expensive ant eggs. Sometimes in high spirits, the elders will come off in person, dance and recite a poem, in exchange for the applause of the crowd.

"The eyes of the gods are on the ancestors. He said, Mexicans, from lake to lake, from mountain to mountain, this is your homeland, your land, your kingdom!" This is the priest's music.

Shulot is fascinated by the splendid and beautiful celebration. And when his eyes turned inward again, there was another kind of blood-colored sacredness in front of him.

Inside the walls of the temple area, there is also a dense crowd. These people were invited, dressed in the most formal attire, to participate in the coronation ceremony at the Great Temple.

In the outer position, there are foreign businessmen, wearing all kinds of strange accessories. Then there are the noble poets, the excellent temple craftsmen, the military intelligence merchants of Mexica, the high-level elite warriors, and the popular representatives of the community. Most of them wore garlands and capes for formal occasions, exchanged loudly with excitement and joy, and watched the fiercely-played sacrificial ball game.

In the inner position, nobles and nobles sat cross-legged on the exquisite feather-woven blanket, wearing bright cloaks and blooming feathers on their heads. They discussed and exchanged in a low voice, watched the ceremony of the temple and watched the ball game in the corner under the service of servants and slaves.

There are stone stadiums in the four corners of the temple area, half-built underground, four or five meters deep, with the top exposed for people to watch, and it looks like a regular stone pit. Each court features two teams of 20-man Otomi captives who engage in intense batting competition for rubber-caused medicine balls.

According to the requirements of the official game, the captives wearing only short shirts each occupy half of the court dozens of meters, hit the ball with their hips, and alternate rounds on both sides. Once the opponent touches the ball a second time, or the opponent returns the ball out of bounds, a point is awarded. There are priests who record the scores of both sides. The ball game usually lasts two hours, until the two sides are too exhausted to provide a more passionate game, and the priest will declare victory.

Unlike the Mayan rites, the winner of the Aztec game will receive honor and wealth, and the loser will sacrifice to the gods. The meaning of the sacrificial game itself is the endless struggle between the patron saint and his evil brothers and sisters. The sacrificial game is also the source of inspiration for later generations to create "Quidditch" games.

While Shulot was watching, suddenly a thunderous cheer came from the northwest corner. He turned his eyes and watched, a strong Otomi prisoner slammed a rubber ball weighing five pounds. The solid ball whistled and hit the face of the young prisoner on the opposite side. He bleeds from his nose and mouth instantly, his facial bones are slightly concave, and he falls convulsively. Next to him were two other companions with broken chests. It seems that the opposing Otomi team will use this method to win.

The priest judge loudly announced the score, and the strong Otomi prisoner scored again!

The cheers of the onlookers sounded again. On the opposite side came a powerful old warrior captive. His eyes were solemn, he leaned against the wall, repeatedly measured his arms, and finally turned sideways and hit the ball hard with his hips. The rubber ball swiped through an exceptionally precise arc, and it would swipe across a four-meter-high wall and pass through an exceptionally narrow ring.

Zhentian's cheers were louder than any other time, and even attracted the attention of the warriors under the Great Temple. This was a lore, a rare lore to be seen in several months! The priest judge shouted the verdict in a loud voice, and the winner was put on a colorful cloak and escorted by the samurai to the outside of the city to be released. The losers were tied with ropes and sent to the altars of the surrounding small temples.

The strong Otomi captive roared and resisted unwillingly, and was immediately hit by a dexterous stick from the jaguar warrior who maintained the order, and fell to the ground clutching his abdomen. The priest judge frowned, took out a small clay pot, and poured a few sips into the strong captive's mouth. Soon, the captive laughed and was taken to the top of the tower obediently, and then rolled down in another form, leaving a long blood-colored trail.

The sacrificers in the small temple did not have the priests to announce their names and receive preferential treatment for their souls. He died silently. Then, in the cheers of the audience, the next sacrifice ball game began again.

Under the Great Temple, the noble battle groups lined up neatly and danced majestically in front of the gods. A thousand fierce jaguar warriors, wearing crisp and symphonic tiger teeth and animal bones, presented a war dance to the **** of war. A thousand gorgeous eagle warriors, draped in brightly swaying multicolored feathers, presented a beast dance to the rain god.

Beside dozens of large and small temples, the priests lit the distant incense and chanted neatly and lowly. Sherlot listened intently. This was a poem sung to the patron saint.

"The patron saint of the Mexicans ascended to the sky to replace the original sun. He fought against the evil moon and night, drawing strength from his heart and blood..."

Then, at the top of the Great Temple of War, a high-pitched priest chanted: "Owadner, the noble of Ottopan City, goes to the kingdom of the God of War! Salute to him!"

Hearing the sound, Shulot looked around and saw a blue corpse rolling down from the top of the 60-meter-high Temple of War. The sacred liquid flowed vigorously from the large hole in his chest, drifting down along the way, until it was blocked by the recumbent sculpture of the moon goddess Koyor Shahki at the base of the temple.

In mythology, the moon goddess leads the brothers and sisters who symbolize the night to hunt down their unprovoked mother. At the critical moment, the patron saint Huizilopochtli jumped out of his mother's belly, and with a waving lightning rod, defeated his brothers and sisters, killed his evil sister, and cut him into several pieces to prevent resurrection. The sculpture truly reflects the death form of the Moon Goddess, and also indicates the next fate of the sacrifices.

Down from the Great Temple, there is a long line of blue sacrifices. Escorted by heavily armed war priests, they took another step forward. In today's sacrificial ceremony, the Temple of War will sacrifice 365 nobles of Otomi, symbolizing the 365 days of the Habu solar calendar year. Every day, the sun **** needs the blood and heart of a noble descendant to keep the world running.

In this era, under the control of Trakael, the scale of sacrifice was not large. The ceremony emphasizes the sanctity of the sacrificial process and the nobility of the blood of the sacrificial offerings, emphasizing the quality of the offerings rather than simply expanding the quantity. The vast majority of ordinary captives are thrown into costly infrastructure. And Mayan blue is the dye of the gods, symbolizing the sacrifices sent to the kingdom of God.

Hearing the familiar voice, Shilot looked at the Temple of War, which was at the same height, and saw the chief priest Kezar who was presiding over the sacrifice.

Kechar, wearing a feather-robed divine crown, is smiling and throwing the fresh stuff in his hands into the fire, offering sacrifices to the sun god. Then the next blue offering comes. It was a young nobleman from Otomi, with a wild face. He straightened his chest and faced the next death with determination.

"Son, what's your name?" Kechar smiled kindly.

"I am the descendant of the coyote, Hornermaker of Palms. The descendant of the coyote never fears death, and I will continue to fight in the kingdom of God!" Hornermaker answered proudly.

"Son, you are very good. You will fight in the kingdom of God and the darkness for four years. Then your soul will fall into the mortal world and become a rare bird. You can choose to be a hummingbird, an oriole, a oriole, or a white butterfly, and **** The nectar of all kinds of flowers. What do you hope to become?" Kechar smiled and praised the warrior's courage.

Hornermaker blinked slightly, recalling the beauty in his memory, and then smiled.

"I will turn into a white butterfly, dance in the valley of my northern hometown, and gather the wildflowers in front of her grave."

"You will! Don't worry, child, your wish will soon be fulfilled!" Kechar smiled kindly, comforting the young noble's heart like a spring breeze.

Although it sounds unbelievable, in the belief of the Aztecs, the warriors who fought with blood and the sacrifices to the kingdom of God would float in the sky and fight for the sun for four years. Then they will fall into the mundane world and become all good things, including birds and flowers.

Next, Hornermaker lay flat on the sacrificial stone, revealing the coyote tattoo on his chest. Kechar took the knife, the other four members of the chief priests group grabbed his limbs respectively, and Uger wrapped his neck with his slightly fat hands. This is also the reason why the High Priestess Corps defaults to six people.

Soon, the simple and sharp obsidian dagger fell, and the coyote tattoo lost his head. Quetzal's cuts are exceptionally precise and quick. Hornermaker just widened his eyes suddenly, shook his limbs violently and weakly a few times, and then stopped moving.

Kechar immediately raised the beating freshness with his right hand, this action was for the **** of war to enjoy. He chanted again in a high-pitched tone of praise.

"The brave coyote of Pams, Hornermaker went to the kingdom of the **** of war! He fought fearlessly for four years, turned it into a beautiful white butterfly, and went to collect the wildflowers in the mountains in the north!"

There was a burst of praise and cheers from under the Great Temple. This accolade is an acknowledgement of the courage of the sacrifice, who retains the most beautiful demeanor of a samurai!

Then, Pams' heart fell into flames and dedicated it to the sun god. His body rolled down the stone steps, before the goddess of the moon. His blood returned to the earth. This is the most perfect return to the Mexica's unsophisticated view of life and death.

"Child, what's your name?" Kechar smiled as always, facing the next sacrifice.

"I am Talavera of Hirotepec. I will face death calmly, but my soul will not go to the realm of the **** of war. The primordial **** Omete Otre will definitely pick me up!" Lavera's face was calm, and his eyes were full of conviction.

Kechar kept smiling: "Maybe." He didn't say more, just continued skillfully.

Talavera lay down, closed her eyes, and shivered violently, then sluggishly stopped, and finally rolled with the wind.

"The pious noble Talavera of Hirotepec, go to the kingdom of the **** of war! After four years, his soul will fly freely according to his own wishes!"

There was another burst of warm cheers, everything was as natural as the law of heaven. The Mexicas simply praised the splendor of death.

"Next." The blue sacrifice staggered over.

"Child, what's your name?" Kechar looked at the other party kindly, a slightly plump young nobleman.

He gritted his teeth and suppressed the tears in his eyes, but he didn't say a word.

"Child, leave your name, and I'll guide you on the way to the kingdom of God." Kechar gently followed suit.

The nobleman remained silent, not opening his mouth. It seemed that he simply thought that he could escape death in this way.

Kechar frowned slightly. "Continue." He waved his hand, indicating to proceed directly to the next step.

The slightly chubby noble was pressed on the sacrificial stone, and his chest was flat. He collapsed instantly and burst into tears. Uger's big stout hand grabbed his throat, and the cry disappeared suddenly, only the tears flowed.

The obsidian dagger slashed and cut again. Soon, the crying stopped completely. Then the slightly chubby body was flowing with sacred liquid and rolled down the steps again.

"Ossantos, the noble of Otomi, goes to the kingdom of the **** of war!" Kechar chanted briefly, adding a name at random without commenting.

This time, the cheers did not sound. A cowardly warrior is not to be praised. In the Mexica's martial society, cowardice is the greatest original sin.

The sacred sacrifice continued. Whether it is bravery, calmness, or weeping, in the sacrifice of the gods, the end is already doomed.

The sacrificial ceremony must be presided over by a priest who can communicate with the gods, and this high-level ceremony needs to be presided over by the chief priests. Kechar's movements are precise and fast, and he is the best swordsman.

The sacrifice of each Otomi noble takes 1-3 minutes, and 365 nobles will spend a whole day. The sacrifice of the Great Temple will begin in the early morning and end at sunset, with the six chief priests in the middle taking turns taking the lead. The number of high-level sacrifices cannot be arranged too much, because the physical strength of the priests and elders cannot keep up.

The number of people sacrificed in Aztec temples has a special meaning, which corresponds to astronomy and guides human affairs.

Auspicious numbers include: 13, the month of the Tzolkien calendar; 18, the month of the Habu solar calendar; 20, the number of days per month; Opened reincarnation; 140, the number of days for corn to mature in this era, usually used for the great sacrifice of the harvest.

200, the base number in the traditional concept, the number unit of the samurai squad. 260, the number of days in the Tzolkien calendar; 365, the number of days in the Habu solar calendar; 400, the number of the evil moon goddess and siblings of the night; 584, the cyclical calendar of Venus, which symbolizes great calamities; 800, which is already An extremely rare number of sacrifices, usually only once in 52 years of destruction.

In fact, in the more than ten years that Shilot has experienced, the sacrifice ceremonies of the Mexica city-states are very restrained, and each sacrifice is complicated and symbolic. The **** of war sacrificed swords, the **** of rain with water, the **** of fire with fire, the goddess of earth with stones, the **** of corn with flesh and blood, and the **** of death with skin.

In the fifty years of the rise of the Mexica, the total number of sacrifices did not exceed twenty thousand. This is not like the thousands of blood and cruelty recorded by the Spanish later. The exaggerated descriptions were either intended to discuss the natural legitimacy of the Spanish conquest, touting the civilisation they brought to the natives, or the illiterate soldiers were bad at math.

In Scholot's view, the nature of this widespread sacrifice is more like an artificial adjustment to the Malthusian population trap. In order to reduce the contradiction between limited land production and unlimited population growth. Similar to the chaotic cycle of the celestial dynasty.

Shulot's gaze was deflected from the Temple of War. He heard the woman's "woo woo" cry, and the melodious symphony of Huan Pei Jingle. So, his eyes looked in front of the rain **** of the same size. Two hundred and sixty Otomi girls were crying and dancing alternately in front of the Rain Temple.

260 is the number of days in the Tzolkien calendar. 365 and 260, Samurai and Maiden. There is no doubt that these girls were also part of the sacrifice. The rain **** will sacrifice water. The girls were captured from the early days of the Otomi War and underwent a long ritual training for more than a year, allowing them to face death calmly.

Today, they will wear gorgeous and light clothes, sing songs praising the harvest and the goddess, and present the most beautiful and final dance to the great rain god.

The girls will play the smile and anger of the goddess Tlaloc. Their arms swayed like a flood, their bodies undulated like hail, their slender feet swirled like a storm. At the same time, the face should be kept crying, symbolizing the falling of precious rain. At sunset, they would take a boat and sail to the center of the holy lake in Texcoco, where they would voluntarily fall to the bottom of the lake and be silent forever. Sacrifice to water.

In this sacred ceremony, the sacrifice requires professional and long training to complete the beautiful ceremony under the pressure of death. This is also the reason why the sacrifices of the Mexicas are not so large.

Shulot closed his eyes slightly, sighed about the fate that was destined to happen, and sighed at the greed of the Mexica gods. The call for the Reformation grew stronger in his heart. Time passed in cheers and singing, until a burst of applause came.

He opened his eyes and saw the familiar giant bear warrior Stanley. He wears sturdy leather armor, a sturdy Hippogryph helmet, and ornate eagle feathers. His right hand is a sharp battle stick, and his left hand is a wooden shield interwoven with rattan and feathers, standing majestically in front of the Temple of Rain.

Opposite Stanley is a middle-aged Otomi warrior wearing only commoner shorts and holding a wooden stick. This is the highest-ranking noble among the captured Otomi people, with the most noble blood.

Shirot then understood that the duel ceremony of the samurai was about to begin. This ceremony is supposed to be held at the Temple of Death. However, for the coronation ceremony of the king, it is still placed in the most conspicuous Rain Temple, adding more exciting links to the ceremony. High priests are actually very flexible in religion, their beliefs are more like a tool.

"I'm Stanley, a noble of the royal family of Tenochtitlan!" Stanley bowed his head and put his battle stick across his shield. His stature was still burly.

"I'm Oyeto, the god-born noble of Hirotepec City!" Oyeto bowed his head in greeting, holding the stick in front of him.

"You are my beloved son." Stanley looked at Oyeto seriously. This is a centuries-old ritual and a tribute to the fearless warrior.

"You are my beloved father." Oyeto looked at Stanley equally seriously, expressing his respect for the enemy warriors.

The two immediately started a duel. Although, the gap in force and equipment made the result of this duel already doomed from the beginning.

In order to make the fight as long and exciting as possible, Stanley kept defending throughout the long prelude. Occasionally, Oyeto's stick would strike Stanley's leather armor with a loud thud. Stanley will cooperate with the expression of pain. Praise and cheers came from below the temple.

Oyeto was indeed an elite warrior. He kept switching footsteps, attacking Stanley's shieldless right side. Stanley simply blocked with a stick, or also flicked sideways and defended with a shield. The Otomi girls spun gracefully around the two of them, dancing briskly. Sometimes they weep in a low voice about the passing of life, and sometimes they sing loudly about the bravery of warriors.

The strength of a samurai and the softness of a girl, the fierceness of battle and the ease of dancing, are perfectly combined. The distinguished poets in the square burst into inspiration and began to sing loudly.

"I long for the flower of the samurai to never wither! Where can I find beautiful flowers and beautiful melodious tunes? I search under the eyes of the gods, but the earth will never create a gentle spring!"

A poet sang involuntarily, tears could not help falling.

"His determination will never waver, he longs to die under the blade of obsidian, the splendor of blooming flowers! He dares to experience the fragrance, freshness and sweetness of darkness!"

Another poet's praise, and the cheers of the crowd in front of the Great Temple.

A samurai's physical strength is always limited, just as flowers only bloom for a while. Soon, when Oyeto was no longer able to attack, Stanley stopped defending. His stormy attack cut countless shallow wounds on Oyeto's body, and the opponent's movements were gradually slowed down by blood loss. Stanley swiftly slashed across Oyeto's throat. Then he quickly raised his shield to block, and blood-colored flowers bloomed on the shield.

Looking at this most exciting moment, the cheers under the temple boiled to the extreme in an instant! The girls threw themselves on Oyeto's gradually icy corpse, "woohoo" weeping over the death of the samurai, and weeping about their own fate. The fragrance of a maiden mixed with the blood of a warrior is the beauty and death of the Mexica.

The shocking duel was over. Stanley glanced at King Avet, who was sitting and waiting in the Temple of War. He bowed his head respectfully in that direction. Then he and the priests left with Oyeto's body. Then there are the steps of the city tour.

Behind him, the girls cried and sang: "O God of Rain, may your tears water the earth and let all things grow vigorously, and we are buried deep under all things!"

The tour of the samurai has not yet begun, the tour of the gods is in progress. From the northern city of Tlatelolco, a cheering procession came, accompanied by the song of the priests, to the melody of ocarina and conch shells.

The parade crowd carried a wooden high platform, and on the high platform was an exceptionally handsome young man. He was dressed in the costume of the gods and played a beautiful flute. Looking at the yellow headband on his head and the shiny obsidian mirror on his body, Shirault knew in his heart: This is the incarnation of the primordial sun Tezcatlipoca.

Around the boy were four beautiful girls. Dressed in costumes that symbolize the goddess, they cuddled next to the boy. Weeping, with a look of admiration and remorse. They gently stroked the young man's chest, and kissed his handsome cheek affectionately. Along the way, there were countless screams and heartfelt cheers from the residents of the capital city.

This is the annual Primordial Sun Ritual, also incorporated by the priests in the king's enthronement ceremony. The handsome boy played the primordial sun for a year. And a month ago, four beautiful girls were sent to his house. In the mournful lingering, he knew that the most beautiful bloom was not far away.

Soon, the high platform reached the wall of the temple area. The boy played the flute and walked in gracefully surrounded by the girls and the crowd. His appearance attracted all the attention, and the nobles and warriors looked at it seriously. This was the last day of the old god. The ladies sighed sadly, leaving behind tears of beauty that passed away.

After a short while, the girls fell to the ground and cried their goodbyes, and the handsome boy smiled and said, "Farewell!"

In front of the magnificent and blood-colored Great Temple, he climbed the long stone steps alone~www.mtlnovel.com~ and smashed the flute in his hand, and there was a crisp cracking sound from the pottery pipe. The priests sang, welcoming the return of the primordial sun. The sacrifices in the Temple of War stopped temporarily, and even the girls in the Temple of Rain stopped crying. At this moment, he is the only protagonist.

"The original sun, thank you for giving way to the **** of war. In the name of the sun god, I welcome you back to the eternal kingdom of God!" Kechar bowed his head respectfully, smiling like a cordial spring breeze. Uger just bowed slightly.

The boy nodded gracefully. Then he took off his gorgeous robe, revealed his perfect figure, and lay quietly on the sacrificial stone.

"My child, soon. You will soon go to the kingdom of the sun and enjoy the peace and beauty forever." Kechar smiled and poured a small glass of powerful holy water into the boy's mouth. Soon, the boy showed an uncontrollable beautiful smile and happily waited for his return.

This time, the passing of the obsidian dagger was accompanied by overwhelming cheers and fervent prayers. The heart of the old **** is once again dedicated to the new god. The corpse of the old **** is given preferential treatment, and he will be reduced to dust in the fire. And tomorrow, a new and beautiful primordial sun will be chosen again, and so on every year.

The sacred ceremony finally reached its climax. King Avit wearing a full set of blood-colored sun suits, majestically walked out of the Temple of War. The coronation is here!

Shilot stood at the level of the chief palace, watching all this with emotion. In the heart of the Mexica, there is a deep-rooted reverence for natural and artistic beauty, and their force is subject to strict social constraints and moral control. So the light alternates with blood, and the beauty sings death.

This is the splendid and **** Aztec civilization! This is the Mexica of flowers and beauty, dance and poetry, war and sacrifice, sun and blood!

Chapter end