Chapter 1297: Chapter 1297

"You found out?! Tell me! Who is he?"

"Tell me! Or else..."

Alan’s gaze sharpened, and with a flick of her dagger, she held it against Priest Mekate’s neck. The cold blade precisely sliced the skin, leaving a shallow line of blood. If it penetrated half an inch deeper, it would spell certain death!

Feeling the blade against his neck, Priest Mekate swallowed hard. His mind was blank, not knowing if he should speak. But looking into Alan’s bright, fiery eyes, he was pricked as if by a needle and instinctively spoke.

"If you haven’t misremembered... according to my hypothesis... the person you met... he might be, should be... His Majesty..."

"What did you say? Who!"

"The King of the Kingdom of the Lake, the prince of the Mexica Alliance, ’God of Death’ Xiulote!..."

Alan trembled all over, her bright eyes flickered violently like flames in a storm. Then, she stared at Mekate’s eyes tightly, seeing a face devoid of any lying traces, she asked again.

"Are you sure? You didn’t lie?!"

"Witness the Chief Divine! I... am sure!"

Priest Mekate pursed his lips, swallowing a dry gulp.

"Ten years ago, these block characters hadn’t been promoted in the Alliance... and the only one who might have carved them is His Majesty Xiulote... and the age you described indeed matches..."

"I originally thought the ’Xiulote’ here was shorthand for the God of Death’s name, ’Xiulotel’. But now it seems, this should be His Majesty’s name, the name he carved himself, ’Xiulote’..."

"May I ask, under what circumstances did you meet the young His Majesty? And why did he give you the dagger with his name carved on it?..."

"What?! The King of the Lake? The Prince of Death?... It’s you! It’s actually you!..."

Alan staggered back a step, trembling all over with shock, her gaze becoming vacant. She ignored Priest Mekate’s question, instead buried herself in distant memories. At this moment, it was as if thunderbolts exploded in her ears, telling of a truth that was hard to believe yet overwhelmingly real.

"So... Xiulote... is... your name!"... Newest update provıded by novel·fire·net

Alan stood there blankly, tightly gripping the dagger in her hand, unable to suppress her internal shout.

"It’s actually you!..."

In that brief instant, the smiling, handsome youth in her memory blurred like a lake surface struck by rain. Then, as the heart lake calmed again, the reflection suddenly became that distant, indistinct figure in the Northern Expedition, wrapped in platinum cloth armor, standing under the Black Wolf Royal Banner – the indifferent king who shattered the Canine Descendants allied forces, forced the Red Crow Tribe to migrate eastward, whom she deeply hated, longed to shoot dead with an arrow!...

"Get out! Purpecha people!"

Moments later, Alan shouted repressively with teary eyes and a breathy voice.

"All of you get out too! Leave no one behind! Kite Arrow! You watch the tent door!"

Old militiaman Chiwaco wore a face of astonishment and, along with the hesitant Priest Mekate, was escorted out of the tent by Canine Warriors. Soon, the spacious tent was empty. Only a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old Vastec girl held a Short Spear, guarding the tent door.

"Ah!... Ah!... I found you!... It’s you!..."

With the tent empty, Alan couldn’t suppress her inner agitation anymore, shouting loudly. At this moment, joy, anger, sorrow, a mix of emotions, and the merging of two unforgettable figures in her memory left her completely baffled.

"The Mexica, they are my enemies!... And you, you are... damn it!"

Alan bit her teeth hard, grabbed the hanging Longbow, picked up a quiver of Feathered Arrows, and shot five arrows at a captured bronze helmet.

"Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Clang!..."

In this instant, her mind went blank, displaying the most terrifying archery! Five consecutive Feathered Arrows shot at the same spot on the armor, eventually piercing through the sturdy bronze armor plate!

"Huff... Huff!... Shoot you to death!"

The surging emotion was like an erupted volcano. As the volcano calmed slightly, the tent was already chaotic. Equally chaotic was the silent figure inside the tent.

Alan took off the silver mask and tossed it into the arrow quiver. Her heroic face, clearly defined nose, and fiery lips became visible in the empty tent. She breathed heavily, pressing hard on her chest, feeling the tight compression band and the sensation of tightness. She sensed her heart’s throbbing, a desire she had never felt before, a strong urge for conquest, surging through her upright body.

"I am Eagle Shooter Alan! I am the Chieftain of the Red Crow Tribe!... I am not that powerless little girl, and you are not just the little boy who saved me..."

Alan muttered to herself, eyes flickering with a dangerous flame. At this moment, she recalled the heroic vow she had once made before Amoxtli!

"I will ride the four-legged giant beast, blowing the horn, ruling over the hundreds and thousands of tribes in the Northern Land. I will raise high tides, rushing toward my birthplace in the South!..."

"I am Red Crow Chieftain, I defeated the Northern Tribes triumphantly, and established 10 new elite Hundred-man Teams!... Now, I have 30 elite Hundred-man Teams, 50 tribe Hundred-man Teams ready to be summoned... they can follow me on campaigns thousands of miles away, conquering one tribe after another... and all this, in merely two short years!..."

For the Red Crow Alliance, with the hunting Wilderness Tribes as the ruling core, they have a surprisingly high ratio of soldiers to civilians. With a mere population of over two hundred thousand, the Red Crow Alliance can muster about thirty thousand Tribal Warriors. In the North, where Alan holds power, there are three thousand full-time elites and five thousand summoned tribesmen. Even more exaggerated, the combat power of these Wilderness Tribes costs little in logistics and they excel in long-range raids...

"Ten years ago, you stood before me, caressed my face, patted my head, letting me head north... five years ago, you led an army north, driving the Red Crow Tribe one thousand miles eastward from the newly settled highland..."

Here, Alan raised her head, gazing at the open top of the tent, looking at the starry galaxy. She took a deep breath, a burning flame raging inside her, shouting her vow!

"Witness my ancestors! Someday, I will make you kneel before me, gazing up at my chin! I will reach out, grab your chin, gazing down at your face!... I will ruffle your hair, tell you to head south, as far as you can go..."

Thinking of this scene, Alan’s face flushed, her heart surged, and her body warmed up. The burning desire for conquest fueled her endlessly, driving her forward! At this moment, she finally had a clear goal, in the name of Red Crow Chieftain!

"You once captured me and let me go once... I will capture you, let you go once... then, I will hunt you again, chase you a thousand miles... hunt the most noble Divine Eagle of the Highland! Hmph!..."

Eagle Shooter Alan pressed her lips tight, picked up the cold silver mask, and wore it again. She laughed like a girl, then quickly lowered her voice, turning into a deep, commanding female voice.

"Heh heh! When I catch you... I will not give you a dagger carved with my name..."

"I will carve my name directly on you!"

"Whether you are the prince of the Mexica or the king of the Purpecha..."

"Xiulote... you are my prey!"