Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

"Chief Divine!…What kind of person would have such a dagger?…"

In the large tent, Alan wore a cold mask, holding up an Obsidian Dagger, standing before Priest Mekate, staring into the other's face. Priest Mekate looked surprised, examining the slightly old dagger while muttering to himself.

"The stone blade of this dagger has been replaced… The wooden handle is very old, with simple carvings, seeming to be passed down through many years… Huh! This scent, this texture… is it hard sandalwood? Hmm, it should be a heritage dagger of the Alliance nobility…"

Priest Mekate widened his eyes, carefully examining the three carved square characters on the dagger's wooden handle, falling into deep thought.

"'Xiulote', the name of the God of Death… It's different from the original carvings, clearly newly carved… So, that's it!…"

"What is it?!"

"It was inscribed by a noble of the Alliance who reveres the God of Death!…"

Priest Mekate stroked his chin, affirmatively responded.

"Of course, it's also possible it was done by a veteran warrior who reveres the God of Death! Your Majesty, in the name of the 'God of Death', has been honored with Divine Revelation. In recent years, the faith in the God of Death has spread quite a bit among the upper echelons of the Alliance and Kingdom. Many nobles and warriors engrave the name 'God of Death' on their weapons to seek the enlightenment of the Divine!… And many noble children do the same, hoping for the protection of the Divine!…"

"Nobles, warriors, and children who revere the God of Death?"

Alan squinted her eyes, observing Priest Mekate's expression. After a moment, she sighed softly.

"So, there are many Mexica nobles in the Alliance with such daggers?"

"Yes! Not only in the Alliance, but many Prepetcha nobles in the Kingdom as well!"

"I see…"

Hearing this, Alan gently bit her lip, disappointment flashing in her eyes. She shook her head slightly and murmured softly.

"It's from the Mexica, it can't be from the Tarasco… Ten years ago, the Mexica Alliance hadn't conquered the Tarasco Kingdom…"

"Indeed!… Ten years ago, the faith in the God of Death only spread within the Mexica Alliance… Oh no! The Telascallan also have the same faith in the God of Death…"

"Not the Telascallan, it must be the Mexica! I remember very clearly, when I met that person, there were also Jaguar Warriors around from the Alliance!…"

"Ah? And Jaguar Warriors? That indeed is someone from the Alliance…"

Priest Mekate carefully nodded in agreement. He looked at the cold Female Chief with a hint of doubt, faintly sensing Alan's disappointment, unaware of whom she was searching for, and why she was so obsessed after so many years… Ten years ago…

"Wait! No! Chief Divine! Time!"

Priest Mekate suddenly lifted his head. He widened his eyes, staring at the tall, cold Female Chief, with an expression of surprise and even shock.

"You… just said… from childhood? Ten years ago?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you certain? Ten years ago?"

"I am very certain. I always remembered. It was ten years ago!…"

Alan squinted her eyes, staring at Priest Mekate's expression, using a slightly hoarse, low female voice to ask.

"Prepetcha priest, have you thought of something?"

"This… ten years ago? Ten years ago!"

Sweat trickled down Priest Mekate's forehead. He had studied at the Divine Power University for several years, clearly understanding that ten years ago, the Mexica script was still blurry pictographic text.

The now clear square characters were said to be jointly created by Xiulote Your Majesty, King Aweit, and a group of Elder Priests! And according to High Priest Bravo, these square characters were actually recorded in dreams by Your Majesty in childhood, blessed with Divine Revelation…

"If so, then ten years ago, the one who could engrave these characters was…"

Priest Mekate's mind shook violently, his fingers trembled continuously. He stood dazedly in place, muttering to himself.

"Impossible!… How could it be?!… I must be overthinking…"

"Priest, have you thought of something?… Hmm? Does this person surprise you? Hmm… You know him? But you don't dare to believe?"

Alan observed for a moment, carefully watching Priest Mekate's expression, her gaze gradually became sharp. Then, she suddenly took a step forward, grabbing the other's collar forcefully, almost lifting him. At this moment, the gaze of Chief Alan was icy threatening, yet lurking with some unspeakable eagerness.

"Tell me! Who is he?"

"I… I'm not sure…"

"Tell me! Your guess!"

"I… he…"

Alan's strength was great, Priest Mekate was trembling with his collar being gripped forcefully. He was breathing heavily, his face flushed red, unable to speak for a moment.

Seeing this, Alan raised an eyebrow, barely restraining the excitement in her chest. She took a deep breath, released her grip, stepped back, and coldly commanded.

"Speak slowly, say whatever comes to mind! No lies! Otherwise… I'll kill you!"

"Uh… You… when you met the owner of the dagger… how old was he?"

"Hmm?"

Alan furrowed her brows, recalling the memory of that boy with a pointed hat, caped, wearing a loincloth, and deer hide shoes, and hesitantly replied.

"Eleven or twelve? Possibly a bit older, he was a young warrior in training…"

"Eleven or twelve? Ten years? Twenty-two?… Ah! Ah this!…"

Priest Mekate's whole body shivered, his fingers trembled again. At this moment, he was eighty percent certain about his guess. However, he still couldn't figure out when exactly His Majesty had met this Female Chief from the Red Crow Tribe, thousands of miles away in the north…