Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

Chapter 1925 1396: Almighty! The Castilians Are Actually Colluding with the Native Kingdom!

"Splash!..."In just the time it takes for a breath, the old turtle had plunged ten to twenty meters deep, then returned exhausted from the depths. This longest breath hold, for an average person, lasts about tens of seconds, while for an experienced pearl gatherer, it's two minutes. But for the old turtle, who had been diving since childhood and possessed a unique physiological gift, this breath was nearly the human limit, close to three minutes!

However, in less than three minutes, diving twenty meters deep, any extra movement could be fatal. The old turtle's first dive could only ascertain the underwater position of the "Thunderclap Great Magic Device" and silently memorize the fastest route in his heart. After resting for two quarters of an hour, he picked up a large stone again and jumped from the canoe.

"Splash!..."

"Splash!... Splash!..."

"Splash!... Whew!..."

"Huff... Huff..."

Diving and salvaging is a lengthy process, especially at depths of more than twenty meters, requiring many preliminary explorations. And at such unimaginably deep depths, the physical exertion is equally astonishing!

In the span of half a day, the old turtle dove a total of five times, for a combined time of less than a quarter of an hour, becoming utterly exhausted. Then he collapsed directly on the canoe, veins bulging all over his body, even with blood bursting from his eyes. This was already the limit of his sea exploration and deep diving attempts for today!

In these five dives, he determined the position in the first four times, and only during the extreme fifth dive, barely touched the 8-pound cannon more than twenty meters down. Afterwards, on his way back midway, he completely depleted his oxygen, exhausting all his strength!

If the observing Canine Descendant hadn't been sharp-eyed, promptly pulling up the rope to retrieve the old turtle from the water, this tribe's pearl gatherer who risked his life for "faith and wife" would have drowned directly at sea...

"Chief Divine witnessed! Lord Shu Cat Owl Priest, we sent over a dozen pearl gatherers, and only the old turtle could barely touch that Big Magic Artifact once! But the artifact's surface is very smooth and very heavy, seemingly half buried in sea mud! To tie a sturdy enough rope to support the weight of the artifact and drag it up using the large ship... only relying on the brief time of one breath, it's absolutely impossible!"

A day's attempt at salvaging proved a harsh reality: even if not considering the health and lives of the tribe's pearl gatherers, and enduring the deep-sea high pressure, enduring the pressure changes that destroy the body... just the human breath-holding limit restricts them, making it impossible for pearl gatherers to complete the task of salvaging the artifact, or even possible!

"One breath is definitely not enough! You must allow the pearl gatherers to change breaths midway! The auxiliary tools to change breath... perhaps, try a skin bag, fish bladder, rubber ball? Then, catch the tide when the water is a bit shallower..."

The sky was growing dark, the sunset scattered across the sea, and the 8-pound cannon at the bottom of the sea disappeared from the sight of the Canine Descendant hunter. Without sufficient direct sunlight, even eagle-like vision couldn't see twenty meters under the water.

On the large ship, Shu Cat Owl pondered silently, considering more auxiliary salvaging tools. Meanwhile, a Taino canoe finally rowed in, bringing along two captured prisoners.

"Lord Priest! That Caribbean and that Blue-eyed Demon have finally been brought by the militia!"

After spending most of the day, the Taino militia finally brought over two prisoners. It wasn't that their distance was too far, rather until near sunset, the two prisoners who were slow to awaken were barely roused by the militia. Contrary to depictions in later television dramas, real drowning victims often fall into deep comatose shock, remaining unconscious often for half a day to several days.

And when Noble Scholar Martin Behaim awoke with a splitting headache, he felt the stinging pain of slaps on his face and heard the natives' excited exclamations.

"Lord Almighty! The priest wants to see the awakened demon! I woke him with the Chief Divine's amulet!"

"Hurry! Hit harder! Use the wooden charm to smack his face!"

"Cough cough!... Uh!... Don't... don't hit... me..."

Scholar Martin was bruised black and blue, with bird pattern marks beaten into his face, his noble Chinese Clothes long stripped bare. He was dragged like a caught slippery white fish by two strong native warriors onto the large ship, full of fear and without the time for humiliation. Once aboard the ship, looking around in terror, he saw a row of "Barbarian Warriors" holding golden axes, and that damned Caribbean native sailor who looked just like him!

At this moment, a "native shaman" wearing the most elaborate feathered clothes was fluently conversing in incomprehensible native language with that native sailor... indeed, this captured native sailor was suspicious, an evil native spy!

"Lord Almighty! You are called Ah Yue, not originally from the Caribbean Tribe? From the Jungle Continent further south, a Lokono person? What about your tattoos?... Oh, your tribe and the Caribbeans have many connections, sometimes war, sometimes intermarriage? Quite interesting..."

"Oh! You were caught by the White-skinned Demon fleet when you were hunting with the hunting party twenty or thirty days ago and became a labor sailor on the deck? From the boundless jungle continent in the south to the chain of islands in the north? So, the demon fleet first arrived in the southern continent, then headed all the way north?! Strange, it's different from last time..."

"What! The White-skinned Demon fleet fought several battles with the Caribbean tribes, and even got ambushed once on Black Lake Island, killing many people?! Caribbean tribes are so brave, can they break the demon's iron? Hmm? Poison arrows? Caribbean people have powerful frog poison arrows that kill instantly?... "

Both Taino and Lokono languages belong to the Arawakan language family, roughly equivalent to different dialects. Xiu Maoying speaks Taino, and although communicating with Ah Yue in Lokono is stumbling, there is no absolute barrier. Facing the 'Esteemed Shaman of the Island Tribes', Ah Yue is cautious and answers honestly, recounting his experiences in great detail.

This is naturally because the 'Tribal Shaman' holds a distinguished position, respected among the tribes. It is also because he has witnessed the strength of this 'Giant Island Tribe', with those golden axes and fierce warrior faces, all telling him to 'respect and obey'.

"Oh! You've always wanted to escape, but the brutal demons watched closely... But during last night's battle, you found an opportunity, clung to this native 'Noble Chief', and jumped into the sea? Jumping into the sea on a midnight battlefield?! That's truly... a brave act against all odds!..."

"Hmm... Then why did you cling to the demon noble chief? Afraid of the demon artifact's shot? Also revenge? If you die, you must drag down one that's worth it?..."

Hearing Ah Yue's tale of lurking on the ship and ultimately killing the 'Evil Demon Chief', Xiu Maoying clicked his tongue in wonder, showing approval in his eyes.

The nearby Red-haired Chabo, after asking the Taino translator, listened with shining eyes. Such a clever tribal warrior should be under his command as his personal soldier! According to the Black Wolf Leader, this is a 'born wolf cub'! With a little training, he can become a formidable 'Jungle Werewolf', even better than their Canine Descendants in water warfare...

"Chief Divine! You are a born warrior! Escaping alone from the demon's ship and being rescued by us is a blessing from the Chief Divine and fate!..."

"Chief Divine witness! I will personally perform the conversion ceremony for you!... Then you will join the kingdom's fleet... Good! Since Chabo has spoken, from now on, you will follow him!..."

Ah Yue, bewildered, paid respects to the 'Tribal Shaman', then was led away by Red-haired Chabo, joining the prestigious 'Kingdom of Cuba Navy'. After understanding the demon fleet's experience, Xiu Maoying shifted his gaze, coldly examining Scholar Martin, scrutinizing this 'Blue-eyed, Golden-haired Demon Chief'.

"Haha! This hair and eye color are different from ordinary White-skinned Demons!... And such a good appearance, with intact teeth... Hmm? Why is there a strange scar on this man's lower abdomen? It seems to be a tattoo symbol, burned over?... This symbol looks like, VI?..."

Xiu Maoying frowned, examining the 'Evil Demon Chief's' body. This 'chief' has less body hair than ordinary prisoners, seemingly well-groomed daily. Of course, this is good; the chest area is clear, making it much more convenient to sacrifice fresh to the Chief Divine!

"Chief Divine bless! A very good noble chief sacrifice, sure to please the Chief Divine!..."

The icy gaze of the native shaman, Xiu Maoying, made Scholar Martin tremble all over, with goosebumps rising on his neck. Then, Xiu Maoying's gaze shifted from Martin's chest past the smallpox scars on the side abdomen, stopping directly on his lower abdomen.

There was an obvious 'scar', even after special 'treatment', still felt very wrong. Indeed, in this era, Western Europe naturally used Roman numerals, and 'VIVIVI' stands for the 'Evil Demon' '666'!

And such 'suspicious' scar traces, if caught by the Inquisition, discovered by an 'Inquisitor', even a noble like Martin would truly lose a layer of skin and have to surrender all his possessions! In the Catholic World at this time, the crime of 'worshipping demons', even if only vaguely suspected, was more serious than 'murder and arson', even more so than 'rebelling against the Seigneur'!

Such 'grave sin', ordinary European nobles cannot hold it. Like the Wallachian Duke Vlad Dracula, who died eighteen years ago, was severely accused due to his brutal acts. But Duke Dracula had thousands of troops, was on the front line fighting the Ottoman demons, so this crime wouldn't weigh enough; his life was only 'worth four liang'.

If Scholar Martin faced such a grave sin, he couldn't explain it, completely 'weighing one thousand jin on the scale wouldn't settle'. After the 'just trial of the Almighty' at the tribunal, the Church lords would devour him, taking all his wealth!...

Precisely because of this, wherever Scholar Martin went, he wrapped himself in a tightly sealed noble robe, maintaining absolute noble demeanor. Besides occasionally returning to his hometown, Nuremberg, he spent most of his time in the remote Azores Islands, staying as far from the Vatican as possible. And due to this deliberately created handle, Bruno and his party managed to secretly invite Martin out, then drugged him, and profited by exploring the fleet...

"Chief Divine! Holy Father of Huitzilopo! This is? This is?... This is actually a Devil Worshipper!... This golden hair, he is not Portuguese; he is an Alemanian (Alemania)? A Devil Worshipper Alemanian!..."

Just as Scholar Martin was trembling all over, ashamed and terrified, a gasp in Castilian language suddenly erupted from the corner of the ship. Scholar Martin looked over at the sound, instantly shocked with wide eyes!

A 'native sailor' with a bird pattern engraved on his forehead was peeking from among the samurai and militia. Even though he shaved his beard, his skin reddened and blackened by the sun... Martin could recognize at a glance; this is a 'White-skinned Tribesman', a Castilian!

"Almighty! Damn Castilian, actually colluding with the Native Kingdom!!..."