The long night stretched on and, before anyone noticed, had sunk deep. The jungle was dim and secluded, with the faint cries of flocks of birds drifting through it. The bonfire gradually burned down, and everyone's expressions shifted, their thoughts rising and falling, their hearts tied to the Eastern Sea.
Tikalo lowered his eyes and brows, gave a respectful bow, and asked with a smile.
"Priest Tomatl, an interpreter from Cuba, a sea chart to Cuba, and the location of an iron mine. Are you satisfied with these three prices?"
Hearing this, Priest Tomatl's eyes flickered, and he looked deeply at Tikalo.
"Tikalo, you should know how much His Highness values those three things. When you were in Shuigu City, why did you not tell His Highness in person? His Highness would certainly have rewarded you richly. What you want could have been requested from His Highness!"
At this, the corner of Tikalo's eye lifted. He smiled and said nothing at all. Priest Tomatl regarded His Highness as a prophet of Divine Revelation, a supreme king. But in his heart, he was still a once-naive youth, and a youth was not someone he could rely on. And now that His Highness had become a cold, ruthless king, a king was even less someone he could trust.
"The bargaining chips in my hand can only be used once! A blood-deep feud, such a treacherous opponent... How could I rely on a king's feelings and hope for the reward of those above?"
Tikalo's thoughts turned, but he remained silent. Priest Tomatl watched him for a moment and understood somewhat. He secretly shook his head, his expression turned stern, and he spoke again.
"Tikalo. The Mayapan Kingdom ruled the lowlands for more than two hundred years. Even if it was only the nominal