Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

Chapter 1903 1376: The Incurable Poison! The Opening of a New Sea Route!

"Boss! It's bad! Really bad! The Natives' arrows are poisoned! Six Sailors have been poisoned, and two are already dead!…""What?! How can that be? The Natives' arrows are so light, at most they scratch a bit of skin—how could that kill a man?…"

The Portugal sailing ship trimmed her sails, turned toward the open ocean, and steered away from the Caribbean tribes' lair, Flower Island of Martinique. As the sails filled and the convoy began to pick up speed, the Caribs' canoes gradually fell behind. Soon their shouting dropped aft, slowly pulling away toward the East, until it vanished at the eastern horizon.

Yet just as Bruno finally breathed out in relief, he heard the urgent report from Sailor Chief Haloduo. Shocked and furious, he thought of those Natives' thin arrows that had just been whistling about—one had nearly grazed his neck… He drew a deep breath, glared at Haloduo's sweating round face, and barked.

"Haloduo! Where are the poisoned Sailors? Quickly, take me to them!… Right, have the Scholar in the cabin come take a look as well… Yes! Ask the Scholar to help, do everything possible to save the wounded!…"

A moment later, everyone ringed the poisoned Sailors, faces grim. All those Sailors were rigid-faced, sprawled every which way on the deck, letting others handle them as they pleased. Their bodies were clearly intact, yet they couldn't move at all, not even a finger; even their pupils were starting to lose focus.

"Almighty! This is a very severe paralysis! Their breathing and heartbeats are very faint… Strange! What kind of toxin did the Natives use, to be this powerful?… Huh! The color of this wound?!…"

Scholar Martin crouched by a wounded man, his hand wrapped in cloth as he carefully examined the wound. Each of the injured had skin-broken, bleeding arrow wounds, mostly clustered at the neck, chest, or shoulders. Looking more closely, besides the red of blood, there was a nearly invisible stain of color at the puncture. Most of these colors were an extremely faint blue or green, while only the two Sailors already dead bore a nearly imperceptible pale yellow…

"Almighty! Little John's eyes are bulging!… Ah! He's stopped breathing—another one's dead!…"

"Holy Mother! What on earth is this? Could it be a Curse from the Demon as well?…"

"It must be the Demon! The Natives here really are the same as in the Southern Continent—all evil Devil Worshippers!…"

"Damn it! Will this Demon's Curse spread? Should we, you know, take care of them all… huh?…"

In a corner, the clever Shushu glanced over cautiously, then quickly lowered his head. He nudged his companion Ah Yue lightly and whispered.

"Ah Yue, this is… what poison?…"

"…It's the Caribs' Frog Poison… in the forest, small, colorful frogs…"

"Ah… Frog Poison?… Can they be saved?… Uh? You!…"

Ah Yue pressed his lips together, staring fixedly at the white-skinned Shaman who was inspecting the wounds, his hand quietly tightening around half a broken Poison arrow he had picked up. This toxin had to be taken from live frogs and used fresh; sealed, it would last a week, but once exposed to light and air, it weakened within a day. Right now was precisely when the thin arrow still held its poison…

"No! Ah Yue… not now… no!…"

The clever Shushu shook his head hard, pried open Ah Yue's fingers, then quietly tossed the thin arrow onto the deck.

"..."

Ah Yue was silent for a moment, looking at Shushu's anxious, worried expression. Only after a long while did he silently nod.

"…This Frog Poison… has no antidote… it depends on the person… and on the Spirit of flight…"

"...Yeah! The Spirit of flight… not now… they're going to my homeland… Live well, and there will be a chance!…"

"...All right!…"

"Almighty! Don't panic, no one panic! This is a poison, it won't spread by itself!… The Natives smeared a strange drug on their thin arrows—let me study it carefully!…"

Scholar Martin frowned, used a strip of cloth to pick up a few of the Natives' thin arrows, and then went back down to the cabin. If this paralytic poison could be brought back to Europe, it would be of extraordinary value. Bruno, meanwhile, ordered the Sailors to do their best to treat the wounded, and followed right on Martin's heels. He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, then asked in a low voice.

"Scholar Martin! This Devil's Poison from the Natives—are you sure it won't spread?…"

"It won't! This should be a Blood Poison; as long as you don't come into contact with it through a wound, you won't be poisoned! The chronicles of the Crusaders record that the Egypt army also had similar Poison arrows… but never anything this toxic! It's like the eye of Medusa from myth!… Truly strange—these naked Natives look Barbaric and ignorant. How did they manage to come up with Poison arrows more potent than those of the Egyptians?"

"Uh, Scholar Martin… those poisoned Sailors… is there any hope for them?…"

"Oh! That I don't know either. This is a New Continent no one has ever recorded; the Natives' poisons here naturally aren't in any book. What's more, the different colors on the arrowheads suggest they didn't even use the same toxin… Only the merciful Almighty can save them!…"

The Noble Scholar Martin shrugged indifferently. He neither had the ability to find an antidote for the Sailors, nor any intention of doing so. With a faint smile, he turned to Bruno and spoke very softly.

"Captain Bruno, you truly are a compassionate captain! But right now, it's only some lowly Sailors who've been poisoned. The Almighty will receive their departed Spirits—you need not grieve!… It's you yourself who matters. As a Nnobility of the Kingdom, you absolutely must take care! You need to put on thick Leather Armor to guard against these Natives' Poison arrows that slip in everywhere!…"

At this moment, Scholar Martin's smile was still urbane and courteous, but to Bruno it seemed inexplicably cold. That smile felt at once distant and close, as if it came from another world that could be seen yet was hard to touch.

However, the reality of the Catholic World was precisely like this. Scholar Martin's father, a member of parliament, had died early, yet Martin still came from a truly wealthy family of Shenluo Nobles, had received the finest education, and possessed connections at the very top! The starting point of his life was as a refined court scholar of the Portuguese Court, followed by marrying the Governor's rich, fair daughter, then becoming an honorary scholar of the Nuremberg council. Finally, after easily gaining great academic prestige, he enjoyed life on his own island Manor…

Martin's life as one of the Catholic Nobles simply did not inhabit the same world as the Catholic commoners at the bottom, nor did it require him to care about the lives and deaths of those below. Had it not been for the voyage to the Southern Continent that he joined when young, he would never have befriended Bruno. And in the Noble education he had received, since these lowly commoners possessed no noble blood whatsoever, then compared to Nobles like him they simply were not "the same kind of people" at all!

In fact, if one followed the Carolignian Codex of the Holy Roman, signed forty years later, and referred to the Middle Ages cases recorded therein… when a Nnobility killed someone over a "private dispute," if the victim was merely an "idle" free commoner, then he need only pay compensation of a dozen to several dozen silver coin. But if the victim was a servant of another Nnobility, then a much higher compensation befitting a noble status and equal standing had to be paid…

"May the Almighty protect us! Oh, right, Captain Bruno, I have another piece of good news for you! About the Natives' Wealth…"

Seeing Bruno's complicated expression, Scholar Martin pondered for a moment, then smiled in a tone of comfort.

"I don't know if you noticed… some of the Natives' hair was a vivid purple, while most of them had black hair…"

"Hm? Purple hair?… Ah! You mean? The Natives, they have… they have Phoenician Purple?!…"

"Indeed! Phoenician Purple!…"

"Phoenician Purple… Phoenician Purple, worth as much as Gold!… Almighty! This place actually produces Phoenician Purple!!…"

Scholar Martin nodded with a smile and patted Bruno on the shoulder. Bruno's somewhat dazed face was now filled entirely with surprise and gratitude!

In this instant, he completely forgot his earlier mood, forgot his emotional sympathy for the ordinary Sailors. For he knew perfectly well what immense Wealth was hidden in that one brief sentence from the Scholar—Wealth of which he could claim a share, real, tangible Wealth! And such a discovery, once written into the voyage's report, would make King Joao so delighted and satisfied, and bring Bruno even more power and support!

"My thanks to you, honored Scholar Martin!"

"No, you must thank the Almighty!…"

"Yes! Thanks be to the Almighty! Thanks to His mercy for guiding us to such a bountiful New Continent!…"

The candlelight flickered, shining on Bruno's weather-beaten face—the face of a man who had clawed his way up from the bottom—and also lighting up Scholar Martin's smooth, fair, handsome features, untouched by any trace of hardship.

At this very moment, the two Nnobility of old stock and new met each other's eyes, full of mutual appreciation. Above their heads, the deck planks were smeared with blood, beneath which lay death without a cry.

This was the opening of the new sea route! Using the bones of the Indigenous, using the blood of the lowly Sailors, they paved a golden route, so that the Nnobility of Europe could set foot upon heights never before attained, among clouds and peaks!…