Aztec Eternals Chapter 354

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In November 1485, in the middle reaches of the Congo River, more than a thousand miles away from the mouth of the great river, Gombe Matadi (Gombe Matadi). In the Congolese language, the meaning of the place name is "walking in rocky places".

The turbulent currents rushed from the upper highlands, pounding the precipitous river banks and washing the dense rainforest. White pelicans flutter their wings and fly up and down the big blue river, hunting for fat river fish. Black swarms of mosquitoes hummed and swirled, gathering in clusters in the blue sky, chasing the scent of blood. In the distance, the misty water and mist rise and linger, the endless jungle covers the sky, and there is not a trace of people everywhere, only the primitive flood.

At this time, three Caravel sailboats, in the turbulent turbulence, with the help of a little westerly wind, struggled upstream to the east. The flagship headed by it is slightly larger in size, and on the high mast, the flag of the Portuguese royal family is flying. A few curious waterfowl were attracted, chasing the slow-moving sailboat, circling the mast.

Captain Diogo Kang was pale and melancholy. He sat in the captain's cabin at the stern, motionless, like a silent sculpture. Even in the hot tropics, he was still wrapped in a thick woolen blanket. From time to time, the "sculpture" would vibrate slightly and let out a few repressed dry coughs.

In front of the "sculpture", a roll of parchment was spread out. Next to the parchment is a quill dipped in ink, a crude protractor, and a parallel nautical ruler. The parchment is full of squiggly curves, precise latitude lines, vague longitude lines, and fine Portuguese labels. Obviously, this is a newly drawn nautical map.

The north of the map is the starting point of navigation, the capital of the kingdom, Lisbon. In August last year, the Portuguese ocean-going fleet set sail from Lisbon and went all the way to the south, passing through Madeira, Canary, Cape Verde, through the Gulf of Guinea, close to the Gold Coast, and finally arrived in New Zealand this spring. Fort Elmina built.

At Fort Elmina, the ocean-going fleet was split in two. Two-thirds of the ships in the fleet, and the vast majority of the soldiers, were entrusted by Sir Dias to be stationed in the port of Fort Elmina.

Sir Dias will lead more than 600 sailors and soldiers on board to conquer the nearby native tribes. The royal order is clear, that is gold, gold, more gold! They will clean up the surrounding villages as much as possible, plunder expensive gold, capture robust slaves, and then as miners, they will invest in the gold mines around Fort Elmina.

Captain Diogo continued his journey south with five caravels. He made a difficult journey across the equatorial windless belt, lost a sailboat, and reached the mouth of the wide Congo River again. Afterwards, the turbulent river, the boundless rainforest, and the swarms of mosquitoes appeared in front of everyone again. Seeing this scene, the surviving crew members from the last exploration were all terrified and chanted "Devil's Land".

Diogo was not afraid. With a gloomy expression, he personally hanged the most fierce sailor in the bow of the boat. Next, he held the silver cross given by his old friend, and after praying devoutly to God, he led the fleet without hesitation and sailed into the estuary to the land of the devil.

Under the scorching sun, the fleet traveled up the river for six or seven hundred miles. The Devil's Land is filled with dark-skinned pagans, wicked **** altars, powerful native kingdoms, and thousands of tribal warriors armed with iron spears.

Diogo suppressed the killing intent in his heart, met with the envoy of the King of Congo with a gentle expression, and exchanged gifts of friendship. Then, two priests from Lisbon and four messengers disembarked from the convoy, and at the invitation of the King of Congo, they went to Mbanza King Kong, the capital of Congo. There, they were to teach the teachings of God to King Nziga Nkuwu, trying to spread the glory of God.

After a brief resupply, Diogo left the populous native kingdom. The crowd went up the Congo River again, looking for the legendary wealthy land, the mighty Elder John. As the fleet deepened, the population gradually dwindled, the forest became denser, and the power of the devil became stronger.

One after another, sturdy sailors fell powerless under the curse of the devil. They were either feverish and cold, or had red eyes and red tongue, or even bleeding from their noses and mouths, red rashes all over their bodies, and wailing and dying of despair. The number of sailors soon ran out and the fleet was forced to abandon a sailboat. Even Diogo himself suffered from alternating cold and fever from time to time.

Faced with such a situation, Diogo could only grit his teeth and endure it, praying devoutly to God, and then throwing the sick sailor into the long river of Taotao. Then, he finally let go and let the sailors go ashore to loot, slaughter several tribal villages, vent the desires of wild beasts, and capture some local natives as coolies on board.

Under Diogo's steely will, the route of death continued for another four hundred miles. The air route turned into a long river with fresh ink marks on the map in front of him, flowing to the mysterious and unknown east. The captain devoutly sensed the voice of God, and the clear call seemed to be right in front of him.

Thinking of this, Diogo raised his head slightly and looked at the birds on the mast through the small window of the captain's cabin. Brave birds circled among the royal banners, like the irises of the Cape, seeking habitation and chasing the divine light.

"dong dong dong..."

A soft knock interrupted the captain's thoughts. Diogo silently held the dagger at his waist and asked in a deep voice.

"Who?"

"Dear Royal Knight, Captain Diogo Kang. It's me, Royal Advisor, Martin Beheim."

The voice from the door was neo-Latin in classical style. This neo-Latin, imitating the Roman era, was not long after the rise, accompanied by a wave of revival of classical art, mainly spread in the prosperous Italian commercial city-state.

Diogo frowned. He could understand the new Latin, but was more used to the old Latin used by the church. At this point, he answered in an old-fashioned tone.

"Respected royal advisor, please forgive me for not being able to get up to greet you, please come in directly."

The door of the captain's room opened immediately, and a young noble scholar walked in. He was only in his twenties and thirties, and he was wearing a complicated aristocratic costume. The weather is so hot, the hair of the noble scholar has been soaked with sweat, but the buttons on the collar are tightly buttoned.

He is the son of a member of the Venetian Republic, a student of the astronomer John Mueller, court advisor to the Portuguese royal family, Martin Beheim, after the Nuremberg nobility.

Martin entered the door and sniffed lightly. There was an indelible smell of blood in the captain's room. He hesitated and asked softly.

"Captain Diogo, are you feeling better?"

"Blessed by the merciful Mother of God, I am all right."

Diogo replied calmly. He has quietly covered the nautical map on the captain's desk, which is the top secret of the royal family.

"Ah! That's good."

A sincere smile appeared on Martin's face. Then, he took out a piece of paper with numbers from his arms and handed it to Diogo.

"Here, Captain! Here's the latitude I've been mapping for the past week, and the recorded hydrology along the way."

"Praise the Lord! Thank you for your help!"

Diogo responded with a smile. He took the paper, glanced at it, and nodded. Regularly surveying latitude and recording hydrology should be the job of the captain or chief mate. But now the chief mate on the ship died of hemoptysis, and the captain himself had joint pains and trembling hands and feet. This important work can only be handed over to the young aristocratic scholar Martin. By the way, in the current era, longitude cannot be accurately measured and can only be estimated by experienced navigators.

Martin stood still. He looked carefully at the captain in front of him, like looking at a ferocious and debilitating lion. At this moment, he has some regrets about participating in this dangerous voyage. The ocean voyage is not the romance he imagined.

Torturous lodging, terrible food, and seemingly endless voyages tormented young aristocratic scholars all the time. The seemingly gentle captain kills people as ruthlessly as a lion. The vulgar sailor, with blood on his hands, is a repressed beast on board, crueler than a beast on shore. What is even more terrifying is the curse of the devil on this land! It silently took away a fresh life, completely unable to guard against it, let alone one's origin and blood!

Martin stood for a long time until the captain's piercing gaze pierced him.

"Scholar Martin, do you have anything else to do?"

"Ah! Dear Captain, I, I..."

Martin hesitated for a moment, then hesitated. The suggestion to return was stuck in his throat, but he could never say it. After a while, the noble scholar spoke up.

"Captain Diogo, I think the atmosphere on the ship lately is a little off. Sailors sometimes meet in private..."

"Oh?"

Diogo raised his brows and nodded slowly.

"I see, please go down. If it is convenient, please call the noble knight Bruno."

"it is good!"

Martin turned and left as if fleeing. The moment he opened the door, he remembered the etiquette of aristocrats again. So, the noble scholar turned his head and made a cross on his chest.

"May the Lord bless us!"

"May the Lord bless you!"

Diogo replied calmly, watching Martin hurry away. He straightened his spine, and his right hand always clenched the dagger beside him, turning into a silent statue. After a while, the cabin door of the captain's room knocked again, and a familiar voice came.

"Captain, are you looking for me?"

"Come in, Bruno."

The hatch opened with a creak, and Bruno walked in carefully in his tight sailor suit.

"Greetings, dear captain."

Diogo nodded. He looked at the outstanding son and nephew of the family and showed a melancholy smile. Then, his eyes became sharp and his face became serious.

"Bruno, how are the sailors these days?"

"what?"

Bruno looked up at the captain's expression and lowered his head in awe.

"Four days ago, the sailors went ashore and slaughtered an indigenous village, which boosted morale. But yesterday two more sailors were seriously ill and were thrown into the river. The sailors on the boat, fearing the power of the devil, prayed to Our Lady day and night. , some people even go crazy..."

"The power of Our Lady will protect us from the devil."

Diogo held the silver cross on his neck in his left hand and said firmly.

"What you can't resist is that you have a devil in your heart and you are not pious enough!"

Having said this, Diogo glanced at Bruno lightly and asked calmly.

"Are there any other voices from the sailors besides prayers?"

"others..."

Bruno paused for a while before replying in a low voice.

"There are indeed some voices, wanting... wanting to return."

"Ok?"

Diogo's eyes showed cold killing intent. But soon, he lowered his eyes and restrained all his emotions. After a few more breaths, a gentle smile appeared on his face.

"Bruno, you are a nephew of my family. I have always valued you. I remember that not long ago, you married a Moor and moved to Lisbon?"

"Huh? Yes, Captain. She's the sister of Paul, the former bosun, and we moved to Lisbon together..."

"Well, do you like her very much?"

Diogo asked with a smile.

"Yes. She's beautiful, she's beautiful, and she's good to me. Holy Mother! She was pregnant before I left..."

Speaking of his wife, Bruno had a happy smile on his face.

"Blessed Mother! Very good."

Diogo patted Bruno kindly on the shoulder. Then, his eyes brightened and he said in a deep voice.

"Bruno, when you got married and had children, you became a real man, and you know the meaning of responsibility! In the last contact with the native kingdom, you made a contribution and showed enough courage. Taking responsibility and Courage is the two most important qualities of my Awish good man! …”

"As we sail on the land of the devil, we must muster the courage to take on the responsibilities that the kingdom has entrusted to us! This voyage is so important. Our responsibility is to discover the country of Elder John, even at the cost of the lives of the noble... .Because, this will be related to the fate of the kingdom, the support of the Holy See, and the future of our Portuguese! … ahem!”

While speaking, Diogo suddenly coughed violently. Bunolu stepped forward and wanted to support the captain, but he was stopped by raising his hand.

"Ahem, I'm all right!...Under the protection of Our Lady, honest and brave fishermen, peasants and mountain people, all the Portuguese will stand together and never bow to their eastern neighbors. Think, my child, Well, if the Spaniards merge us, the Inquisition will follow. What will happen to your wife and children?"

Hearing this, Bruno froze in his heart. He stared at the captain's resolute face, and couldn't help getting down on one knee, making a loud promise.

"Captain! I will definitely muster up the courage to take my responsibility and continue to sail!"

"Okay! Bruno, you are different from those sailors at the bottom... You have the blood of the nobles in your body. I always have hope for you."

Diogo smiled and put his hand on Bunolu's shoulder. Then, he looked solemn and his eyes were cold.

"Bruno, keep an eye on the sailors on board for me. Find out who's in the dark, and... tell me."

"...Yes, Captain."

Hearing this, Bunuuru's back froze and he broke out in cold sweat. He quickly lowered his head and prayed devoutly.

"Our Lady bless us! We will surely find the country of Elder John!"

"Blessed Mother!"

Diogo nodded calmly.

"Come on, there's still a lot to do on board."

Bunolu saluted, then turned and left. He exited the hatch and looked up at the sky. The tropical sun was so hot that sweat was all over his back. He took a few steps worriedly, scolded a few sailors on the deck, and went down into the shady cabin.

Bunolu walked worriedly in the cabin for a while, and a trusted sailor came up to him.

"Boss, quartermaster Mattim is looking for you."

"Matim looking for me? Isn't it time to repair the weapon?"

Bruno was a little surprised. A quartermaster is a must-have position on every ship and is responsible for the custody and distribution of weapons. In the early days of the Great Voyage Age, the sources of common sailors were mixed, and their loyalty was unreliable. For most of the voyage, their weapons were collected and kept by the quartermaster until they were released before the battle.

"Boss, Matim said that some weapons have just been repaired~www.mtlnovel.com~ Let you pick two first, it will be gone if you go too late!"

"...Okay. I'll go get you two too. Where's he?"

"The supply compartment in front."

The supply compartment is not far ahead. Bunolu didn't hesitate, and strode over.

The light below deck was dim and the smell was terrible. Two sailors were guarding the hatchway, both with knives around their waists. When they saw Bruno coming, they opened the hatch halfway and asked Bruno to go in.

"Haha! Matim, you finally remembered..."

Bruno walked into the dim cabin with a smile and looked at the figure in front of him, but his words suddenly stopped.

Inside the small cabin, there were four stout men staring at him coldly. Bruno recognized it for a moment, then cold sweat dripped from the back of his neck.

"Mattim the quartermaster, Diego the boatswain, Haroldo the head cook, Ivo the carpenter... Y'all, are you all here?!"

"boom!"

The cabin door behind him slammed shut, and the cabin suddenly became dark. Only a faint candlelight remained, illuminating the gloomy four people. The dim shadows changed on the faces of everyone, like the power of the devil.

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