**Chapter 72**
**Conquering the Comanches (6)**
The battle between the Comanche tribal cavalry attempting to break through and the Mexican Imperial cavalry trying to block them was heavily in favor of the Mexican Empire.
To break through the defensive line, they had to physically approach. This meant the Comanche warriors could not maintain their original advantage in range with their pistols.
Bang! Bang!
Cough!
The Mexican Imperial cavalry fired their revolvers even in close combat.
They had plenty of bullets.
After firing six shots, the cavalryman retreated briefly to reload.
A Comanche warrior who had lost a comrade aimed his bow, but a Mexican cavalryman approached and swung his sword.
The warrior quickly dodged the sword, but he had to give up on shooting his bow.
This close combat was harsh for the Comanche warriors.
They couldn’t shoot their bows, while their opponents could fire pistols. Their wooden spears and stone axes were often shattered against the iron weapons.
Tatatatatatang!
Meanwhile, the dragoon unit's AR-33s were spewing fire.
Ugh-
Another life was lost in vain.
The Mexican Imperial forces were overwhelming the Comanche tribe with their revolvers, the AR-33, and tactics that surpassed their expectations.
Even in this dire situation, warriors who used their superior horsemanship to outmaneuver the Mexican Imperial cavalry and break through the defensive line continued to emerge, but they couldn't inflict any meaningful damage on the dragoon unit.
Seeing the example of Mu-pitsuku-pu, the other Comanche cavalrymen learned that simply charging head-on would only make them sacrifices for the cavalry's anti-charge spears. However, there was no way to withstand the concentrated firepower directed at those who entered the defensive line, and in the end, the best they could do was shoot a few arrows before being killed by bullets.
The Comanche cavalry was unable to inflict any significant damage on the Mexican Imperial forces, but the Mexican Empire wasn't easily slaughtering the Comanche warriors either.
It wasn’t easy to hit the enemy because they weren’t fighting in formation like infantry battles, and the battle dragged on.
“···I wish they would surrender soon.”
As the Crown Prince muttered, the Comanche war chief Puhiwi-kwasu-u also sensed defeat.
‘Even if we break through, there's nothing we can do. If we continue like this, only our losses will accumulate.’
If they had only cavalry, or only dragoons, they could have easily attacked. But the combination of the two was simply impossible to overcome.
If it was hard to win, they could just not fight, but the situation didn't allow for that.
Puhiwi-kwasu-u couldn't find an answer.
‘We were arrogant. Not just me, but all of us.’
The burning desire for victory had cooled down. Fear, despair, and the death cries of the dying swept through the Comanche tribe.
"Retreat! Retreat!"
Puhiwi-kwasu-u ordered a retreat.
"The order to retreat has been given! Comanche warriors, retreat!"
"Retreat!"
The order was relayed across the battlefield, and the Comanche warriors began retreating diligently.
"Pursue them, but don't go too far. If there are casualties, stop the pursuit. And don't kill those who surrender."
The Crown Prince commanded.
The battle, which had begun when the sun was at its strongest, ended as the sunset began.
The Mexican Imperial forces didn't let them go easily.
Tatatatatatang!
The dragoon unit, true to its name, used its mobility to scatter in all directions and fire at the fleeing Comanche cavalry as much as possible. The cavalry also gritted their teeth, reloading and firing their pistols continuously.
"Surrender! Only those who surrender will be spared!"
But the Comanche warriors were no pushovers. As the situation turned into a large-scale pursuit, retaliation began immediately.
This was different from when they were running away after failing to loot. This was a pursuit of thousands. While running at full speed, the warriors shot arrows at the Mexican Imperial cavalry pursuing their comrades in the distance.
Ping!···Cough!
Despite being in a pursuit to hunt down the enemy after a victory, the Mexican Imperial cavalry was starting to suffer more casualties than when they were directly clashing.
The cavalry officers, realizing the situation, ordered an end to the pursuit.
"This far! Don't pursue any further!"
"Yes!"
With the pursuit order given, the cavalry began clearing the battlefield.
"Treat the wounded first and clear the battlefield. Confirm the number of dead and wounded and report it."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Although they had won a decisive victory, their own losses were not insignificant. Not many had died from wooden spears and stone axes, but there were quite a few who died from arrows. Surprisingly, there were also many warriors who had single-shot pistols or iron weapons.
‘They must have obtained them through trade or looting. It was the same in the original history.’
The Crown Prince thought so.
"Your Highness, you need to see this."
One of the officers brought a single-shot pistol.
"Is it French?"
French, not from our Mexican Empire, nor from the United States or England?
There were many French people living in various cities in Louisiana, like New Orleans, but it was strange for a French weapon to have reached this far.
"We need to find out how they obtained it. Question the prisoners to see if anyone knows."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Many Comanche warriors were wounded and left behind.
Most of them were hit in the limbs, not in the head, chest, or abdomen.
***
The situation of the Comanche tribe retreating from the battlefield was truly desperate.
"Are you saying 3,500 have died?"
"···There must be many who didn't die but didn't return, but for now, that's the case."
Puhiwi-kwasu-u regretted it.
‘I should have ordered a retreat sooner.’
Being unable to hunt buffalo after being denied looting meant the tribe was doomed.
He couldn't accept that fact, so he delayed the retreat order.
"It's all my fault."
Puhiwi-kwasu-u blamed himself.
"···Well, even if someone else had been the war chief, it wouldn't have changed much. Instead of blaming yourself, we need to think about what to do from now on."
Another chief said so.
"Yes. Losing 3,500 brothers is heartbreaking, but now we need to talk about how to overcome this situation."
Another chief also said so.
Those present were all chiefs leading their own bands, so they had to consider the safety of their tribesmen.
"Is overcoming even possible? Is there any chance of winning if we fight again?"
One of the chiefs said.
There were still many warriors left. But could they win if they fought again?
This was something the Comanche tribe, who had always won, had never experienced before.
"···It’s frustrating, but I don't think there's a way to win by fighting. Fighting further will only lead to pointless sacrifices."
It was an unimaginable statement from the warlike Comanche tribe, especially in a council of chiefs, but surprisingly, everyone nodded.
Puhiwi-kwasu-u also nodded and said.
"···If we can't win, there are only two choices: leave or submit. If we leave, they won't chase us across the border. It's their own definition, but they consider this area as Mexican Empire territory, and the north as territory of another country, the United States."
From the perspective of the Comanche tribe, who had lived and ruled this area for a long time, it didn't make sense that this was Mexican Empire land, but they hadn't cared until now.
In the end, everything was decided by the logic of power. That's why they had been able to loot freely.
"It's better to leave. Are we going to live under the orders of those Mexican bastards who slaughtered all our brothers?"
The young chief argued, but the older chiefs didn't agree.
"That's not a matter to think about emotionally. If we leave, we have to worry about what we'll eat right away. I heard there are buffalo herds on the northern plains, but there’s competition there, and if we want to loot, we'll have to fight the Americans."
"Yes. I don't like those Mexican bastards either, but didn't we loot them first? The important thing is whether Mexico has any intention of letting us live."
It wasn't a wrong statement.
Unlike the Chumash tribe, who were robbed of their homeland and forced into slavery, the Comanche tribe had never suffered such a fate.
Instead, the size of Comancheria, the territory of the Comanche tribe, had been growing, and the intensity and frequency of their looting had been increasing. So, they knew they were closer to being perpetrators than victims. They just thought it was natural because they were stronger.
The young chief was taken aback by their words.
"···You've completely lost your spirit after one defeat. In the end, they're just invaders who want our land. It's better to die than to submit to those Mexican Empire bastards and farm."
Seeing the atmosphere heating up, Puhiwi-kwasu-u intervened.
"Instead of arguing among ourselves here, it's better to hear the opinions of each tribesman."
He didn't know if the Mexican Empire would accept it, but fighting here wouldn't change the reality, so Puhiwi-kwasu-u argued for gathering the tribesmen's opinions.
The other chiefs also knew that fighting here would be pointless, so they readily followed Puhiwi-kwasu-u's order.
There were exceptions like the Iroquois Confederacy in the east or the Pueblo tribes in the southwest, but most Native Americans in North America lived in relatively egalitarian societies where class was not fixed, and the Comanche tribe was no exception.
The chiefs asked for the tribesmen's opinions.
"I hate both, but if I have to choose, I’ll go north. My brother died at the hands of those Mexican Empire bastards!"
At first, that opinion was overwhelming.
After the war, anger and grief over the loss of loved ones dominated the Comanche tribe. However, as time passed, the atmosphere began to change.
"But what's the point of going north? I heard America is a big country like Mexico?"
"I heard that too."
Leaving the territory the Mexican Empire claimed as theirs wasn't the end. Food wouldn't suddenly appear out of nowhere, and to get food, they would have to loot and hunt again. Of course, that meant fighting.
At this time, America's vigilance and response capabilities against looting were not at the level of the Mexican Empire, but the Comanche tribe didn't know that.
They simply feared the power of the vast Mexican Empire, which they had once underestimated, and they mistakenly thought America would be similar.
"But if we surrender to those Mexican Empire bastards, they won't just let us go."
"That's true."
A heated debate erupted among the Comanche tribe over these two bleak choices.
The debate continued until the Mexican Empire's envoy arrived with a proposal for surrender.
"···So, if you surrender now, you will be spared your lives. That's it."
"That's right. This is the decision of His Majesty the Crown Prince, so surrender immediately."
There were those among the Comanche tribe who could speak Spanish.
They had long been the target of looting and trade during the Spanish era, and some were born from Spanish people they had kidnapped.
There was even one who had a Spanish name, "Santa Anna." He was called "Santana" within the tribe.
Santana said.
"How can we trust your words?"
"There's no need for useless talk. Will you surrender, or will you die? There are only two choices."
"···What if we go north? Will you stop us?"
"Your warriors are criminals who have committed crimes against our empire. It is our duty to stop you. And even if you go north, there will be another country. It's better for you to surrender peacefully."
In reality, there was no way to stop the Comanche tribe from going north.
It wasn't like they could block specific passages, and how could they possibly stop tens of thousands of people on horseback running across the plains?
Both sides knew this, but the officer followed the Crown Prince's order to persuade them to surrender as much as possible.
"We will give you a week. Think carefully about which choice is truly best for your tribesmen."
He informed them and left.
There was no option to continue the conflict with the Mexican Empire. As long as they held the Comanche tribe's food supply, there was no way to get food, so if they wanted to fight, they had to fight immediately. And that was suicide.
In the end, it was either surrender or leave.
Puhiwi-kwasu-u was leaning towards the former, thinking that if he alone paid the price, his wife and children could live safely.
He thought that the Mexican Empire's words were believable, as there were already examples of other tribes, but people had different opinions.
Some, forgetting that they had lived off looting until now, considered the Mexican Empire as mere invaders. Some thought they would never be able to live a meager life by farming. Some doubted the Mexican Empire's words. Some just didn't want to be forced into hard labor.
They knew about the existence of another great nation called the United States, but many wanted to leave for various reasons.
Puhiwi-kwasu-u tried to persuade them to surrender, putting aside his pride, but he couldn't stop those who wanted to leave.
"···About half of them?"
"Why don't you come with them?"
"No, I've decided to stay here."
Hoo-
"Then this will be the last time."
"Yes."
Puhiwi-kwasu-u didn't want the Comanche tribe to be torn apart, but the Comanche tribe had always lived in separate bands.
He was a war chief, but it was a temporary position, and he didn't have the power to force them on this issue. About half of the bands decided to leave for the north.
Half of the 6,500 warriors who survived left.
They would not stop until they crossed the northern border with their bands.
Puhiwi-kwasu-u had mixed feelings, but he didn't have time to dwell on them.
He conveyed his intention to surrender to the Mexican Empire.
Please keep updating it <3
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