Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

"Praise you! Lord Joao..."

Joao II sat still, his deep-set eye sockets seeming to flicker with two ghostly flames. The three stewards remained kneeling, equally motionless. Duke Manuel stood two steps away, a hint of nervousness on his face. After a few moments, it was Bishop Diogo who lightly coughed and stepped forward.

"Ahem! Holy Mother, protect us! Your Majesty... Your time is running out..."

"Hmm."

Joao II uttered a soft "Hmm," finally shifting his gaze from the heavens to the courtiers in the hall, each harboring their own thoughts. The stewards he personally promoted, the noble navigators he cultivated, the great nobility he suppressed, the bishops he once controlled and ultimately lost control over... and this seemingly ordinary, peaceful, and gentle cousin next to him—the unanimously chosen heir to the throne!

"Hoo..."

Joao II exhaled a deep breath and beckoned to Manuel.

"Come here!"

"..."

Manuel paused and approached silently. Then he knelt slowly before Joao II, eyes brimming with tears as he looked at his cousin.

"Cousin! May Almighty bless you!..."

"Hmm."

Joao II gazed at Manuel’s face, studying it for quite a while. Feeling this indescribable look, Manuel couldn’t help but swallow and lower his head. Joao II continued to gaze until he felt the heat leaving his chest, then finally spoke.

"Manuel, today I pass the Portuguese throne to you!"

"Beware of the Dual Kings of Castile; ally with France, England, and the Holy See... Do not start wars easily; do not get entangled in the Italian whirlpool."

"Our Portuguese people’s future lies forever on the seas, in the Southern Continent, the New Continent..."

"Yes, cousin! I shall heed your words! With the assistance of these vassals you left behind, I will realize all your unfinished endeavors! Pursuing the goals of Ancestor Enrique, heading towards the new route to Eastern India!"

"Hmm."

Looking at the kneeling Manuel and listening to his promises, Joao II nodded with effort. Then he turned his gaze toward the carved relief on the ceiling.

Throughout, he never glanced at anyone else, nor at his illegitimate son George. These were matters he need not ponder, nor were they important. His brilliant stewards would surely protect George, for his sake and theirs. As for this illegitimate son, he never held much affection nor nurtured him. This illegitimate son George was merely a reserve choice after all!...

"Almighty, Ancestors..."

"In my lifetime, I quelled those unruly great nobility and promoted those outstanding navigators, I suppressed the bishops for a lifetime and finally let them turn the tables..."

"These are not important. What matters is pursuing the maritime goals left by the ancestors! I pioneered the new Indian route, expanded the coast of the Southern Continent, circumnavigated the Cape of Good Hope... explored the Atlantic New Route, discovered a new Southern Continent, and colonized that New Continent..."

"I have been the Portuguese King for fourteen years! As a king, I am without fault. I can meet the ancestors of Alawi, I can meet them... What is my only regret then?"

The sun set toward the Western Sea, Sintra Palace illuminated by the afterglow. Joao II’s pupils began to scatter, the colorful changing afterglow seemingly morphing into faces familiar yet strange. In the end, when all the backdrop sank into darkness, only a single dead, youthful face appeared before Joao II. In this final moment, he suddenly cried out in agony, hoarse and painful:

"Afonso, my son! My Afonso!!..."

"!!..."

The three stewards abruptly raised their heads, looking at Joao II’s outstretched hand. Then, that skeletal hand fell, and the deafening cries resounded throughout the palace.

"Waa! Waa!..."

"The King has passed away!"

"His Majesty has gone to Heaven!"

"Almighty, Almighty..."

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!..."

"Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!..."

The solemn, mourning bell tolled in Lisbon Church, ringing a full forty times. This signifies the King’s age, forty years old. A king who died at forty, ruling the entire Kingdom of Portugal for fourteen years, yet completely changed everything about the kingdom, paving the way for the initial voyage into the Golden Age for the Portuguese people!

"Waa! Aa! Waa!..."

Within Lisbon City, citizens’ heartfelt cries erupted. The King brought prosperity, brought their livelihood, naturally earning their cheers and tears. As for the nobility’s tears, they usually skim the surface. They have more important, and more focused matters to attend to, namely Duke Manuel’s coronation ceremony on the second day after the old king’s death!

"Unctio Domini super regem nostrum!"

"The Holy Oil descends upon our King!"

The new king’s coronation ceremony was held in Lisbon Church as always, akin to a mass ceremony. After experiencing King Joao’s era, after the suppression of church authority by royal power, "Almighty’s Majesty" finally reappeared!

Duke Manuel donned a King’s Robe interwoven with red and gold, a simple gold ring on his head as he knelt under the dome of the Holy See. Behind him, priests carried the King’s Scepter, the legion’s banner, and Almighty’s Gospel.

Bishop Diogo solemnly anointed Manuel’s forehead, hands, and chest with Holy Oil, symbolizing him both as a servant of God and the shield of the nation. Then Bishop Diogo raised the crown held in his hands and, with the posture of "Divine Right of Kings," recited the blessing words of the coronation ceremony!