Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

A quarter later, Ezpan knelt down again, his expression returning to normal from the trance of the baptism. Xiulote looked at him, his smile gently deciding his fate.

"Ezpan, you have shown your ability and loyalty, but it is not enough. The position of Legion Commander for the new army has already been determined in advance, and with your qualifications, it is not possible for you to take on that role. However, as long as you do what you should do, and continue to prove your devotion to the gods, there will be a new starting point! Train the Spear Legion well, and once the legion is formally established, I promise you the position of Vice Legion Commander!"

Listening to His Highness's decision, Ezpan's expression first darkened, then lit up with surprise, shining bright with hope. He mumbled "uh-huh" a couple of times, at a loss for words, then knelt down forcefully, banging his head on the ground with loud thuds.

This time, Xiulote didn't count the time to wait. He laughed heartily, continuing to promise a bright future, motivating the loyal general.

"Ezpan, I have great hopes for you. I don't mind that you were born to foreign miners, but the Alliance will care, as will the other Samurai and Militia. Therefore, you need to doubly prove your abilities and your loyalty!

You were once Tarasco, now you are Mexica, you must make a showing in the Alliance's Western Campaign! And after the Alliance conquers Tarasco, I will establish a new Tarasco Legion, where your true and grand future lies!"

Upon hearing His Highness's glowing promise and thinking of the hardships of his life, Ezpan suddenly choked up. The clear path of hope lay before him, yet he couldn't help but shed tears. He kowtowed mightily, clutching the wound where his finger had been cut off, once again using pain to wake himself. After a long while, he managed to speak with a hoarse voice.

"I am willing to die for Your Highness!"

Seeing the genuine emotions in Ezpan, Xiulote suddenly became contemplative.

"If I had been born in a poor commoner's family, when would I have struggled onto the world stage?"

After pondering for a while, the young man smiled wryly at himself. He looked at Ezpan with a warm gaze and waved his hand.

"Go now, Ezpan, take this bottle of healing ointment with you. I will be leaving camp tomorrow, so start the training work. Soon, the new Legion Commander will arrive, taking over from the chief training officer, Balda."

Ezpan respectfully knelt on the ground, retreated on his knees to the door, then he finally got up, carefully exited the tent, and disappeared into the vast night.

Xiulote watched the tent flap close again, the darkness isolated in the distant world. He pondered for a long time, then shook his head.

"Balda was born in a noble family, a Samurai of the noble eagle. He is ultimately not suitable to lead a legion of commoners... Bertade, would you be willing to take on the position of Legion Commander for the new army? It may be somewhat beneath you, but this new legion will continue to expand, and during the Northern Campaign, I will appoint you as Marshal."

Xiulote looked at the Head Warrior, his most trusted subordinate for both loyalty and ability. In fact, deep down, he even regarded Bertade as a kind of mentor.

Bertade's expression was solemn. Having followed Xiulote for a long time, he could discern the young prince's intentions and the importance His Highness placed on the new army. After a moment of thought, the Head Warrior shook his head.

"Your Highness, I am willing to stay by your side forever. I can assume the role of Legion Commander for the new army for a short period, but it is not appropriate for me to do so in the long term. As your Guard Commander, I also should not take up the mantle of Marshal, having too much military power."

Xiulote lowered his eyes, thinking for a moment, then nodded slightly. Then, he spoke affectionately with a smile.

"Bertade, you have followed me for many years, and we understand each other's hearts, so you needn't worry too much. I lack experience in commanding a large army, and will surely rely on you and teacher Olosh during this northern campaign. You are my best choice for Marshal in my heart!"

Moved by the young man's heartfelt words, Bertade was visibly touched. He bowed deeply and, after a moment of contemplation, spoke slowly.

"Your Highness, as a Samurai born of commoners, it is difficult for me to command the respect of noble officers, and I am not qualified to take on the role of Marshal. In fact, for the position of Marshal, there is a most suitable and esteemed person."

Xiulote was taken aback. He looked at Bertade's weathered face and asked in a deep voice.

"Who is it?"

"Your father, Legion Commander Xiuxoke." Bertade suggested respectfully with his head bowed.

At these words, Xiulote abruptly stood up, turned and looked northward. The young man's thoughts drifted far away, and as memories flickered by, nostalgia surged like a tide.

After standing quietly for a while, he murmured to himself.

"My father as my aide during my western campaign?... Indeed... that is not a bad idea."

The great tent quieted down, fresh air flowed in from the top. The campfire flickered briefly, then blazed brightly again, releasing even more light and warmth.