"The villages of Northern Land... the communal work villages..."
The sun tilted westward, casting a sky full of red clouds. Woodpecker Aitz led the tribal archer camp, having traveled over fifty li in a day, and was truly exhausted. The kingdom officers around were similarly fatigued. However, the lightly-equipped tribal archers, though tired and hungry, showed no sign of complaint. They seemed as obedient and resilient as worker ants, wearing only a set of paper armor, with leggings wrapped around their legs, seemingly capable of marching through the night.
"It's getting dark! Let's reach a nearby village, have a hearty meal, and get a good rest!..."
The kingdom officer of the camp discussed with the garrison leader of the nearest village for quite a while before the latter stiffly agreed. Yet when the Tlaxcalan archer camp arrived at the village, what they saw was a rather enthusiastic "welcome" scene.
