Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

December 1495, Brave Island, Puerto Rico, San Juan Bay.

The morning Caribbean Sea was like a piece of pale blue velvet. The pale golden sunlight sprinkled on the cloud-shadowed water surface, a curved bay emerged from the morning mist. The entrance of this bay is quite narrow, flanked by low mangroves and coral rocks. The sea color gradually deepens from a light green in the distance to a azure in the bay, like an inscrutable, magnificent dream.

As the tide surged in from the western entrance, it brought palm leaves and driftwood, along with an enchanting fragrance. It was the scent of sea salt, the sweetness of nectar, and the fragrance of resin, all blended together. If one were to describe it with a suitable adjective, perhaps "abundant" would be fitting.

Undoubtedly, San Juan Bay is abundant. The semi-enclosed lagoon forms a natural fishing ground. Schools of fish and shrimp easily rush in with the rising tide and become easy catch during low tide. In the mangroves on both banks, not only are there tropical, colorful flowers, but also naturally fragrant balsam trees.

An astounding number of seabirds circled over the forest, while many sea turtles and large sea snails were on the shore, along with edible seaweed easy to gather. These are all excellent food sources, and even more plentiful food comes from the surrounding Taino people’s prosperous village, from their vast cassava fields, from the ponds where they breed sea turtles and fish, and the small cotton and tobacco fields. All of this is enough to sustain a large Taino village of one or two thousand people, with over two hundred thatched dome houses alone!

"Hiss! Hiss!~~"

The red-headed vulture let out a low hiss, flying over this familiar coast. On the shore, the usual specks of Taino fishermen’s boats, those busy, naked fishermen, bizarrely disappeared, as if swallowed by an invisible shadow. It continued to ascend, finally seeing the burning flames at an eastern village, the forest-like masts on the coast, and the terrifying shadows they cast.

"Swish! Swish!"

As the sea breeze blew, dozens of Taino domed thatched huts made of royal palm leaves had turned into burning torches. Numerous white-skinned bipedal creatures were looting the village huts or carrying something basketful to the large ships by the shore. And carried by the wind, the scent of blood from the flames, and those seldom-heard cries, acted like an invisible lure, making the red-headed vulture fly greedily over.

The scavenging red-headed vulture has the finest sense of smell; even from dozens of miles away, it can detect the scent of corpses. Moreover, it makes no distinction between fresh and decaying bodies. Soon, as it used its sharp bird eyes to gaze down upon the Taino village, it saw many, many "foods", much "yellow, fresh meat".

These hundreds and thousands of "foods" lay prone on the ground, seemingly scattered throughout the village. Many white-skinned bipedal creatures seemed to be dragging and moving them, gathering them together, throwing them into huts of various sizes. And as soon as a Taino corpse pile filled a hut, a burning torch would be thrown over, consuming all within the hut into ascending, scorched, black smoke.

"Gurgle!... Gurgle!..."

The red-headed vulture complained unhappily, circling around the alluring scent of scorched "food", as if blaming such wasteful behavior. However, it lacked a vocal organ and was unable to produce loud calls, just like those dead and living Taino people. And within the burning village, a matchlock gun from Castile already had a flickering match cord, aiming at it. But soon, another large hand came from the side, pushing away the aimed gun barrel.

"Witness of the Almighty! Soldier, do not waste lead bullets and gunpowder! During the previous grain levy, you have already wasted too much! This is not the Holy War Battlefield in Granada; using expensive firearms on these people with no resistance, without metal weapons, and without armor, is a waste! Only long spears and swords are needed!..."

"Understood! Honorable Company Captain, Sir Knight Alonso de Ojeda!"

Holy War veteran Garcia perfunctorily saluted, putting down the matchlock gun in his hand. Several other veterans around glanced at him and also shrugged with a smile. Under the scrutinizing eyes of the people, Knight Alonso drew his knight’s composite bow, nocked a sharp iron arrow. He squinted, aimed momentarily, and suddenly released, sending the piercing arrow through the air.

"Whoosh!"

"Hiss! Gur!..."

"Haha! Bullseye! My archery, even among the many knights in my hometown Cuenca, in the Castilla-La Mancha Highlands, is famous! Look at my prey... Uh?..."

The red-headed vulture emitted a hoarse, mournful cry, plummeting straight down, landing into the burning hut. Upon seeing his prey fall into the fire, Knight Alonso’s smile instantly froze. He glared viciously at Holy War veteran Garcia, cursing.

"Witness of the Almighty! If you’re killing then kill! Why burn so many houses? Where will we live after burning them?..."

"Knight Alonso, there are plenty of these natives’ houses! Haven’t we done so on the Holy War Battlefield? A large number of corpses can breed the evil demon’s plague, so they must be burned. And these houses are made of grass, more convenient than gathering firewood... Besides, that group of bumpkins on our ship, for some reason, have been gradually infected by the evil demon. This devil’s land, I always feel, is unclean!..."