Chapter 159

You think you can block our path to wealth just because you talk about "love and peace"? Go find somewhere cool and stay there!

Therefore, they discussed it and jointly filed a complaint with the King of Spain.

After this sermon, Montesinos and his followers were threatened by the Spain Royal Family and forced to return to Spain. However, they were then pressured to renege on their promise during a second sermon. On his second sermon, Montesinos issued an even harsher condemnation.

Bartolomé was also present at the time. He may have thought the old Priest had some merit, but that was not enough to dampen his enthusiasm for making a name for himself.

Until 1513, Bartolomé accompanied the Governor of Cuba to suppress the Indian.

During the Hatuey massacre, he witnessed tens of thousands of natives fall to the slaughter, which made him realize the bloody nature of the colonial movement and reminded him of Priest Montesinos's sermons.

Despite gaining a rich "spoils"—the fertile territory of central Cuba —after the massacre, Bartolomé was plunged into deep guilt and self-reproach.

The subsequent massacre of the Taíno by the Spain completely shattered his moral compass. He wrote in his diary:

"I have never seen or imagined such a large-scale and brutal phenomenon. Under the ravages of Spain colonialism, this once vibrant island became a desolate wasteland. As for the docile Taíno, they later became completely extinct, while some of the rather tough Carib bravely defended their homeland survived."

In that instant, Bartolomé understood Priest Montesinos and the Teacher at the University of Salamanca.

After that, he gave up everything in the Americas, relinquished his land, freed his slaves, and abandoned the possibility of becoming the Americas 'aristocrat.' He returned to Spain, preached about the suffering of the Indian, and advocated for an end to this atrocity.

In the debate hosted by the Spain Royal Family on whether the Americas Indian had souls, Bartolomé, Montesinos, and some Dominican Order priests turned against the empire.

Even though the results were minimal, and he was hated, cursed, and even assassinated by most of those who benefited from the colony, none of this could frighten him.

Because Bartolomé firmly believed that he was doing the right thing.

For there stands a statue of Novia in the Dominican Order, the founder of the Church Novia, standing before a pulpit carved from a giant stone, his gaze stern and profound, his left hand raised to his mouth like a microphone, the declaration of the founding of the Holy Church echoing from the desolate desert, spanning thousands of years.

The words of the past, like light, slowly faded into the darkness.

A faint, ethereal glow drifted and floated across the world, as if to redeem those in distress who longed for rain, or to guide those who were lost.

"Bartolomé, do you know? I actually know about you, Montesinos, and the priests who resolutely opposed Spain colonization. You all did a wonderful job; you are all respectable believers."

In the stillness after the bloody slaughter, Favia walked up to Bartolomé and said with a smile.

Although the actions of Bartolomé and others did not achieve effective results in the Sixteenth Century due to the overwhelming power of colonial forces, it was their dissemination of their ideas through Book that ultimately, in the 3rd century, under the call of Priest Hidalgo, ignited the Mexico independence movement, known as the "Cry of Dolores."

Almost simultaneously, American Revolutionary War were raging across the Americas, the cry for freedom resounded throughout the New World, and royal power collapsed.

As long as the march towards our ideals continues, the efforts of those who forged ahead will never be in vain.

Bartolomé did not answer immediately because he did not know what to say.

"It's important to say things like 'I hope you eat well,' but you also need to take action like 'I'll cook for you myself.'"

He continued,

"I'm going to Island of Cuba to bring those Indian back. Do you want to come with us?"

"What..."

In that instant, Bartolomé's eyes widened, almost unable to believe that what Favia said was true.

In fact, Favia had thought about this for a long time, because it was like stirring up trouble and alerting Spain to Mexico ahead of time, which could lead to a war. But then he thought that the Governor of Cuba after Hernán would also be here, it would only be a matter of a few months, so he made his decision.

Besides that, there is actually another reason --

"Woo-hoo!"

A loud wolf howl echoed from the dense forest, accompanied by the sound, and the wolf revealed itself to everyone.

This was a giant Coyote Favia had previously encountered in the Guamar Confederation, a group of Indian Chichimecs, whom they considered Deity and called 'Coti'.

This name is that of the Guardian God in Indian mythology, and also the Guardian God in Maya mythology.

It seems to be an existence equivalent to Phantasmal Species, but there are some subtle differences. In Tlaloc's words, it feels like the Rain God and the Huitzilopochtli have personally descended to appear.

The Aztec Warrior were not particularly surprised by the appearance of the Coyote Coti; rather, they seemed quite used to it and made way for it. The huge Coyote obediently lay down beside Favia.

"... Could it be..." Bartolomé murmured softly in amazement, "... the mysteries of the Americas..."

"That's right, its name is Coti. In Indian mythology, it's the name of Guardian God."

"... Alright, I'll go with you." Bartolomé nodded emphatically. "I'll go with you to bring the Indian back."

A faint smile returned to Favia's lips, as if acknowledging the Priest's courage.

Then, the Aztec Jaguar Warriors who had been staying on the coastline, along with the Chichimecs who had come with the Coyote, boarded the ships that Favia had come on and the ships that Hernán had brought.

Do you need any help?

Just as Favia was watching the crowd board the ship, Tlaloc's voice rang in his ears. It seemed that she, like the Coyote, had learned of the situation and rushed over.

"I thought you would just walk up without saying a word."

"You mean you need it? Okay, I understand."

The Black-Haired Girl answered indifferently, and then intended to go to the ship on her own, but before she could take a few more steps, she was stopped by Favia.

"Forget it. There's no Aztec Faith on the Island of Cuba. Me and the Coyote are enough."

In fact, Tlaloc's strength at this moment was far less than when she first fought Favia. Due to the abolition of Human Sacrifice, the Central and South American World was in a slow process of 'destruction'. In addition, the replacement of the Rain God and the Huitzilopochtli Faith made the Black-Haired Girl, who could be called a god of the Present World, extremely weak.

The destruction of the world and the decline of Faith will naturally cause the power of the Moon Lake to gradually return to the level of the elves, rather than the level of the gods.

"... No, I'm going." Tlaloc shook his head. "But it's not because I'm biased towards you; it's because of the Sun."

"Sun?"

"Yes, because Tlaloc was the Sun of the Third Sun Era, and as you said—"

The Black-Haired Girl turned around and looked directly into Favia's eyes. She stood tall and proud, appearing completely innocent.

"The Sun is great because it can illuminate even the tiniest specks of dust. I am not foolish enough to deny the Sun's greatness just because I want to kill you. The Indian of Island of Cuba are fellow human beings living in this cruel world."

"Is that so...? Is this what you, as the Moon Lake Incarnation, think?"

Favia's eyes were fixed on Tlaloc, his steps slow but steady, one step after another.

"Tenochtitlan is indeed an extremely beautiful city, or rather, a city that exists and was born because of the Moon Lake, how could it not be beautiful?"

"... Whatever, think what you want."

"Alright... By the way, does Xiaoxi know about what's going on here?"

"I see that Bavan Shi is still studying, so I haven't heard anything from her about what's going on here." Tlaloc paused, then said expressionlessly, "Since you care about her so much, why don't you just let her stay by your side?"

"That's true. Although I know things will eventually calm down, I can't predict the process, because things could get chaotic and unpredictable. Because it's unpredictable, I just hope she stays safe."

"... I don't understand, doesn't Bawan Shi get angry?"

The Black-Haired Girl suddenly said in a somewhat annoyed tone.

"Because I promised her I would come back."

241: Light in Northern the Americas (5k5)

When Geronimo was eight years old, his Spaniards lord personally branded his forehead with a red-hot iron, branding him with the mark of a slave.

A red-hot branding iron tip can reach temperatures of nearly 800 or 900 degrees Celsius. If such a high temperature comes into contact with a human body, the consequences are unimaginable. Most adults cannot withstand it, let alone a young child.

When he was first branded, Geronimo cried out in extreme Flesh pain, but as he cried, he gradually stopped feeling the pain.

It's as if you've lost the feeling of pain. This is because such severe burns can damage the subcutaneous nerve tissue, which can make you feel less pain in the end. What remains are deep red and charred black wounds that are difficult to fade or stay there forever, signifying that you are a slave.

Besides the Flesh numbness, perhaps it's also because he's known about this day since he was a child.

As the child of a slave, he was naturally a slave himself; this was an imprint etched deep within Geronimo's heart.

After the lord released the red-hot branding iron, Geronimo, covered in sweat, smelled a familiar fragrance wafting through the air.

He recognized it somewhat, because it seemed to be the aroma that emanated from the food called meat that the lord sometimes ate.

He had heard that some Indian used to eat meat, but not anymore. Wild animals hunted had to be handed over to the lord first, or they would be skinned alive.

Geronimo had never eaten meat. He had only eaten various foods made from ground Maize, as well as Maize itself, and the drink made from Rishi fruit and water that the lord would give them when he was in a good mood.

That's already delicious.

Then, a little over five years after he was branded.

The most noble people on the Island of Cuba are the Spaniards, the lords, and we, as slaves, cannot and should not refute this. This is the concept that Geronimo has been instilled with since birth, and he has always regarded it as the truth.

But Geronimo still remembers what happened on that day when a bunch of people of the same skin color as him launched a massive offensive.

Spain, which had long regarded the indigenous people of Island of Cuba as inferior "black pigs," originally thought that after so many years, these Indian would no longer dare to resist. However, the reality was not as they thought; the flames of resistance still burned among the local indigenous people.

Therefore, in 1513, some of the indigenous people of Island of Cuba launched a massive uprising.

"Run! Run into the forest or anywhere else, just run! Survive! Find a boat and get out of here!"

Being yelled at to leave by a stranger who suddenly appeared, Geronimo felt a moment of bewilderment. So instead of obeying the man, he ran back to the simple house where the Spain lord had given them to live.

At that time, news of the uprising had just spread throughout Cuba, and the Governor of Cuba, upon hearing the news, immediately assembled a large Spain army to suppress the Indian.

Due to the disparity in strength, the uprising came to an end after only a few days, with the sound of gunfire marking the End Times of the insurgents' days.

Perhaps to intimidate the Indian survived the uprising, the Governor of Cuba did not immediately choose to kill them all, but instead let the surviving Indian, who were enslaved, see the consequences of resisting them.

"Foolish black pig, you really don't know that naive courage is utterly meaningless in the face of an educated bullet."

When the Governor of Cuba ordered his slaves to skin the previously captured rebels one by one in front of a large group of Indian slaves, he said this with a smile, and the Spaniards present, who had followed the governor in suppressing the uprising and received rich rewards, also laughed.

Only the Indian fell silent; even the Indian slaves who had scalped their fellow countrymen in the name of the Governor of Cuba couldn't help but tremble.

"Sol, Sol, Sol, Sol, Sol, Sol, Sol..."

However, when the insurgents were being skinned alive by their own people, they were all laughing and shouting the same thing.

Incredibly, they all wore expressions of pure delight.

They didn't want to die under the humiliation of the Spaniards; if they were to die, they wanted to die alongside their compatriots who had died on the battlefield.

There were no casualties recorded in this massacre because the Spaniards did not consider them human beings and therefore did not intend to record them.

This reality was only revealed many years later in Father Bartolomé's "Brief Account of the Destruction of the Indies," a book written by a priest who hated the massacre because of his involvement and took a path opposite to colonialism. As a result, Bartolomé, as a humanitarian, was opposed by the authorities and vested interests in Spain throughout his life.

In the account of another Spain eyewitness, the conquest of the Americas presented a completely different picture.

In "The True History of the Conquest of New Spain," written by Del Cortés, who followed Hernán Castillo in his conquest of the Aztec, the firsthand account, written from the perspective of a soldier, makes the reader feel as if they have wandered into Theater, witnessing scenes from Robinson Crusoe: islands, savages, and tribes.

This book offers a wonderful depiction of the customs and culture of the Aztec region, but the massacres it mentions are all due to the Indian's intention to harm the Spaniards, with the Spaniards acting in self-defense; or massacres carried out by Hernán without his knowledge; or massacres caused by feuds among the Indian people.

In short, Hernán would never commit massacres unless absolutely necessary; similarly, Hernán would not actively plunder gold, but rather accept it only when the chiefs insisted on giving it to him, and in exchange, he would trade it for glass beads, a specialty of Spain; even the beautiful women among the Indian were accepted by Hernán under duress.

It also says that Hernán Cortés was a gentleman, an upright Spain citizen, and a faithful believer whom God gave to the Americas.

After all, different perspectives lead to different focuses in the historical documents they write.

Ultimately, in the conquerors' self-portraits, they are the 'heroes' who liberate Evil, the myth of defeating a vast ancient empire with negligible power.

However, Castillo still said at the end of the book, "We all went to New Spain for gold." Perhaps he said this at the end because he felt guilty.

At night, in the gold mines of Island of Cuba, countless Indian were bent over, digging for gold under the watchful eyes of overseers.

The gold mine was dimly lit, almost nonexistent, and looked no different from pitch black. Each small hole was like a dog hole, Indian had to bend over and huddle inside to dig for gold. This working environment was unbearable for ordinary people, but for them, any complaints or resistance would result in beatings or cruel treatment by the Spaniards.

For Geronimo, such a difficult life was already a habit. Even at a young age, he developed a hunchback and spinal curvature due to long hours of bending over to work, and every muscle in his body ached.

However, this was perhaps the first time Geronimo had ever been in such a cramped and dark little hole.

His eyes welled up with tears because of the distress he was experiencing.

Therefore, when he arrived, he secretly asked his fellow countrymen who were also digging for gold nearby.

"Why do they say 'Sun'?"

The word "Sol," which the insurgents kept shouting before they died, means "Sun" in Spain.

Geronimo didn't understand why he had to shout "Sun," and he also quite disliked the Sun because it would be very hot and tiring when Sun came out.

"Because the Sun is not only 'Sol' but also 'Apo'."

"... Apo?"

"This is how we pronounce 'Sun' in our language, and in our language and legends, the Sun has always been Protection us."

Later, Geronimo learned from this elderly Indian about their mythology, which he was unaware of before.

Animals, like manifestations of nature, bestow peace, Protection, and glory.