Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

Chapter 1921 1392: The Almighty Shelters Us, Escaping the Pursuit of the Devil Natives!

"Almighty! Save us!..."The burning flames rose on the deck of the Portuguese flagship, like the scorching of Hell, bringing a pervasive sense of death! And the sudden explosion of the gunpowder barrel was like an unprecedented thunder, raising a shocking air wave that even pressed the flames into sparks!

"Boom!!!..."

The stern's side panel was completely blown apart, and the heavy 8-pound cannon rolled into the sea, countless fragments of wood like blades slicing through the entire stern!

Four armed sailors didn't even make a sound as the wooden shards pierced their necks critically. Quartermaster Matim screamed, clutching his bleeding right eye, frantically rolling on the deck.

"Ah! My eye! My eye!!..."

"Ah!... My head! My head!... My scalp?..."

The air wave surged through, and Sailor Chief Haroldo groaned, feeling pain in his head. Terrified, he touched his head over and over until he realized it was still there, only a piece of scalp was shaved off by the fragments. Then, in shock, he looked around the ship, witnessing a scene straight out of purgatory.

Four sailors lay dead on the deck, the quartermaster and another sailor were writhing and wailing. Old Ivo clung tightly to the deck, using the native guide accompanying him as a shield. The native lay motionless, head struck against the mast, unsure if dead or just unconscious...

"Chief! Chief!..."

"Great Almighty! Mighty Demon! Whoever can save me, I will sincerely worship Him, offering the finest lambs and human blood, just like the sacrifices of the Old Testament!..."

Captain Bruno knelt at the cabin door, praying devoutly, promising ancient rites. In the earliest faith of the Lord, slaughter and sacrifice were commonplace, even acts of devotion, like God asking Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac...

"My son hasn't grown up... I mustn't die here, not at the hands of the Devil Natives!... Whatever promises I make, even if it means trading souls with demons!..."

Bruno trembled all over, hearing the native's cries in the wind as if he heard the call of Hell, making his heart filled with fear. Once again, like when he was on the Southern Continent, his heart prayed to the demon.

In that moment of life and death earlier, a mysterious courage rose within him, rushing back to the captain's cabin! At that moment, even if he were to be blown to death by gunpowder or cut down by the natives boarding the ship, he would die honorably like Diogo and Silvira in the captain's cabin!

Then, the explosion leveled the stern deck, yet the cabin on the second floor remained intact. The sails above continued to flutter, even speeding up the large ship westward under the flames rising from the rear deck! When death narrowly passed, Bruno's courage quickly faded, just like the Lord's glory, only shone for a moment. Afterwards came the demon's corrosion...

"Ah! The ship is still moving? The stern rudder isn't damaged? The mast is still intact?... Miracle! It must be the demon's blessing!... Ahem... it's the Almighty's incredible miracle, helping us escape the Devil Natives' pursuit!..."

"Captain Bruno? Are you still alive?!"

"Haroldo! Stop shouting! Hurry! Get the sailors to extinguish the fire! Hurry and extinguish the fire!... Don't let the flames catch the sails!..."

Panic ensued on the Portuguese flagship, with no one caring for the two severely wounded crew members. In fact, only eight or nine crew members remained active on the ship. Among the fifty to sixty members of the Portuguese exploration fleet, almost nine out of ten were gone before returning...

"Holy Mother! Thank you for your blessing..."

Old carpenter Ivo shakily climbed up, checked Guide Shushu's breathing, and sighed with relief. If he hadn't reacted quickly earlier, grabbing the native to shield himself, with his old bones, if an explosion struck him, he'd be a goner...

"Whew! You lucky native, don't blame me for using you as a shield... this time, you saved me once... witnessed by the Holy Mother! From now on, as long as I have a piece of bread, you'll have a mouthful of bran to eat!..."

"Ivo! Ivo!..."

"Ah? Captain?!..."

"Not enough people to handle the sails, quickly go and handle the sails! You're an old sea dog, you know how to use the wind best... We need to be faster, faster! Gradually turn, using more wind... Only then can we completely leave the natives' large ship behind!..."

"Yes, Captain!..."

"Haroldo! Throw the dead sailors into the sea, the junk too! If we can lighten the load, we can go a bit faster!..."

"Yes, Chief!"

The wind at sea is always changing, sometimes blowing from north to south, then shifting to southwest. Morning light gradually descended across the Caribbean Sea, illuminating its vast expanse. And in the near sea west of Haiti Island, dazzling fire arrows like shooting stars pursued the Portuguese flagship's torn stern, only to gradually descend into the ocean.

The seasoned sailors of the Portuguese Navy had at least five or six years of sailing experience, old carpenter Ivo even had two decades of navigating under his belt. Their sail-handling skills were far unmatched by the Kingdom's warriors, who had only trained for a few months. And now, the Portuguese flagship was evidently lighter than the Kingdom's sailboats loaded with samurai.

In anticipation of headwinds, the gap wasn't initially apparent, but as the Portuguese flagship adjusted direction, heading towards the downwind southwest... the pursuing large ships slowly widened their gap, from one to two hundred meters, to three or four hundred meters, then to one mile, two miles...

"Damn these cursed demons! The ships are alike, pointed sails the same... Why do they run so fast?!... Where's Ah Gou? Ah Gou?! How are you adjusting the sail? And Ah Ba, are you not putting in effort? With that size of yours, even turning is slow!..."

"Ugh!... Red-haired Chabo... We've already done our best... Portuguese ships are always better than Castile's, perhaps it's the small sail adjustments... They're all true old sea dogs! Look at their sail-handling skills, then look at the ship's bow pressing on the water..."

"Hmm? Still dare to talk back?!..."

"Ah!... We... We were wrong!... Boss!..."

Aboard the Stone Spear, Sailor Chief Qia Chu and Bartomele exchanged glances, nervously lowering their heads, followed by a headache. Red-haired Captain Chabo glared fiercely, pulling out a cane from his waist, whipped each of them once, and then put it back again. He had plenty of ways to manage these "demon" underlings. But facing the sailboats across the sea...

"Damn it, truly encountering a ghost, encountering the Wilderness's wind demon!... When I ran on the Wilderness, no one could outrun me... Yet in the sea... these demons are simply water demons, running faster than anyone! If only I could jump onto their ship, I'd cut them one by one, and two by two, sending them all back to the Earth Mother!..."

Red-haired Chabo sulkily looked toward the southwest, the sun gradually rising as the demon's wrecked ship had become a small speck on the horizon, completely out of reach. He sighed helplessly, then glanced around the twenty archers, teasingly reprimanding.

"Damn it! Chased for so long, yet the demons slipped away! All of you are the Kingdom's Flying Bird Shooters, yet those fire arrows went every which way, what were you even shooting?!..."

"Turn the ship's bow! Look carefully in the water! Just now the demon's big magic artifact, didn't it fall into the water? That big, loud thing, its power comparable to several cannons' worth?"

"Search well! See if we can find it, retrieve it to make amends!... What are you staring at? Ah Ba! Keep staring and you'll be thrown into the sea, let you dive for it!..."

"...!"

Sailor Chief Bartomele quickly lowered his head, tightly shutting his lips. He was about to say that the "heavy gun" is iron, sunk in this vast sea, how could it be found? And even if found, how could one retrieve such a thousand-pound entity?

But having followed the other party for so long, he clearly understood the fierceness of this "Red-haired Captain"! This native captain was far crueler than the bullying Columbus, genuinely a bloodthirsty, cruel man. He runs faster than any dog, alone can kill two of his kind, with amazing archery skills that hit flying sparrows! Under his fierce gaze, Bartomele could only lower his sunburnt back, using the newly learned Nava language, stammering in reverent prayer.

"Praise to Huitzilopo's Holy Father!... All at your command, Red-haired Chabo!"