Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

The east wind howled endlessly, pushing the tattered longship towards the unknown West. In this early summer of June, the Azores high pressure from the North Atlantic created a strong pressure difference around the American Continent. Hurricanes rose on the sea, spinning with pressure, throwing strong winds and rain towards the land.

The longship headed west, spotting flying seabirds but rarely fish. The sea was a blue desert, the deeper the sea, the further from the continent and currents. Fortunately, the Kingdom's last exploratory longship only tested the edge of the desert cautiously before quickly sailing towards the fertile near waters.

"Four days of storms... six days of drifting... it's been ten whole days! The ship hasn't stopped... why haven't we reached land yet..."

Old Militia Chiwaco lay at the bow, too hungry even to stand. The food on the ship was only enough for three days. After surviving the storm, everyone faced the torment of hunger. The Samurais cut the leather armor into small strips and shared them among the crew. The sailors cast sisal fishing nets off the stern, trying to catch something.

Old Chiwaco gnawed on the leather for three days, hard and astringent, nearly breaking his teeth. Until the fourth day, the net caught two fish, and a pot of fish soup was cooked. The twenty-one people shared it, each only sipped twice, at least soothing their stomachs slightly.

"There are more flying birds in the sky, and the net can catch fish... this is a good sign, the great Chief Divine is protecting us on the sea!"

Priest Mekate leaned against the gunwale, his lips dry and cracked.

There were now only twenty-one people left on the ship, eight fewer than when they first broke out. Among them, five severely wounded succumbed to their injuries, and the remaining three were swept away by the storm. He ordered the bodies to be piled in the cabin for emergencies... Luckily, four days ago, the sailors finally caught fish.

"Mekate, how are those two children doing?"

"They... are weak. The little boy Tilan is seasick and can't eat anything. Of course, there's not much to eat... The little girl Tidan is fine but so scared she can't speak..."

"The two children are too small... if we keep drifting... they won't survive..."

"Hmm..."

Priest Mekate nodded, saying nothing. How long they would drift was not for those on the ship to decide. And if they drifted much longer, sooner or later, they would all die.

"The problem now is we're running out of water... If only we had collected more rainwater during those stormy days... Chief Divine, protect us! Let it rain again!"

"Chief Divine, protect us!..."

The old Militia licked his lips, sincerely praying. He watched the equally tattered sails at the front and back, feeling the ship's constant swaying, and quietly asked.

"Mekate, the wind hasn't stopped and the ship keeps moving, all around is sea and nothing to see. Drifting for a day and night at least equals traveling for six or seven days... We've drifted for ten days, how far have we actually gone, where are we?"

"Who knows..."

Mekate shook his head, also lost in confusion.

"The sea wind doesn't tire, where it takes us, we have to go... After all, everyone has lost their strength, they can't row the boat anymore..."

"So where are we heading?"

"Westward. Sometimes veering north, sometimes south these days. But I think it's mostly northwards... As for those stormy days, I can't tell..."

"Mekate, don't you know that star thing? Look carefully, have we reached anywhere..."

"Captain Qi, I looked last night... We're around north latitude 23 degrees, maybe 22, maybe 24..."

"North latitude? 23? Degrees?... Speak plainly! Have we passed the Tototanak coast yet?..."

"Uh... a while ago! I estimate we've even passed the Feathered Serpent Ancient City's coast long ago. We must be in the Vastek people's territory now, past Crow City too... If we keep drifting... I don't know then…"

"The Vastek people…"

Old Militia Chiwaco squinted, staring at the sky and sea, both eerily blue. There's nothing in the deep sea, like the mythical fearsome Black Abyss. Navigating the deep sea felt like treading on a cliff edge, with a hollow feeling inside, as if falling off any moment. This grueling feeling was entirely different from nearshore sailing. And being the fleet captain, the responsibility bore heavily, with only twenty-one people left...

"Damn! This blind! Spit!…"

After a long silence, the old militia spat fiercely. But he was so thirsty, he couldn't even spit out saliva.

"Witness, Chief Divine! If I get ashore this time, I'll return to the village… even if you beat me to death, I won't venture to sea again! Even in death, I won't die at sea!…"

Hearing this, Mekate looked up at the old militia cursing. Then, he turned his head, a silent smile appeared for no reason.

"This blind!… Don't worry! Chief Divine's protection, we'll be back soon!…"

The sun rose and set, the sea remained vast. The beautiful, tranquil blue sea sparkled. As the longship sailed, hints of light green emerged on the blue surface, along with floating seaweed.

The old militia had a premonition, that land was approaching. Not because of Priest Mekate's repeated "Chief Divine protection", but because the seabirds had directly dropped their thin water on his head.

"Damn! This blind bird!…"

The old militia cursed weakly, wiping off the bird water from his forehead. He looked at the flying red shadows in bewilderment.

"These pink birds... what are they?"

"Hmm... with that long neck, they should be egrets? But with red wings, like roses, truly beautiful…"

Priest Mekate raised his head, watching the beautiful red birds, smiling as he spoke.

"Such beautiful birds must be messengers of the Chief Divine! They are here to tell us that land is near!"

In fact, this was the beautiful Roseate Spoonbill, like roses blooming in the sky, always feeding in shallow water and near shores. Its appearance truly signified that land was near.

The sunset that day was golden, bathed in sky-full twilight. The golden sea extended into the distance, like a cloud river lying in the world, towards the soul's desired other shore. And the beautiful rose flew and bloomed in the sky. Then, a faint black line appeared at the end of the West. The scout on the ship, Flying Bird, after a moment of shock, joyfully shouted its name.

"Land! Land! Land has appeared!"

Land appeared. After thirteen days of drifting, the other shore was finally reached.