Pirate Kingship

Catherine hastily changed into a light, appropriate blouse and trousers in the inner suite before the two of them hurried out of her boudoir.

Many of the maids in the mansion stealthily cast curious glances their way, but when Byron looked back, they immediately scattered and avoided his gaze.

Through the real-time surveillance of the Golden Law, he heard all their thoughts and the words they had just spoken, crystal clear:

"Did you hear? The Governor and the Earl's daughter seemed to be having quite a fierce battle."

"A full three hours! How impressive. Could this be the power of a Second Order expert?"

"..."

Byron had just come ashore, and the two of them had already spent several hours together. The house looked as if it had nearly been torn down by them, and Catherine had even changed her clothes, all of which inevitably led to wild speculation. It also didn't help that Catherine had strategically positioned all her well-educated, and even transcendent, personal maids at crucial locations throughout the territory. The local maids they hired temporarily, while having clean backgrounds, were generally of mediocre quality, not at all up to the refinement expected of a Great Nobles' household. They were incomparable to the well-trained elite maids of the Old Continent.

Never mind that none of this was true. Even if they had personally witnessed a commotion in the dining room, living room, garden, or even by the grape trellis, proper maids would remain unmoved and tight-lipped.

It wouldn't be long before Teyman Island would buzz with rumors starting with, "Hey, have you heard..." or "Pass it on..." Of course, them spreading these rumors was far more preferable than them spreading tales of the Governor's... encounters with squid or octopuses. At least when this gossip spread, the pirates of the Privateer Fleet and even the Newman Family of the royal colonies would welcome it.

The main problem is still the lack of various talents in the territory, as well as a general lack of people. But that will soon change. There will be Undead Servants, gods, Nature Spirits, and indigenous manpower.

Neither of them took what the maids were thinking to heart and walked side by side out of this simple wooden Earl's mansion.

After granting passage rights to the Third Order Eagle Warrior Geronimo, the latter had already followed the directions and arrived above them.

"Mr. Byron, this is extremely urgent! Please, lend your assistance immediately!" Geronimo's voice carried down.

The eagle, trailing a whirlwind, swooped down from high above, its movements and cries clearly conveying extreme urgency.

Geronimo wasn't alone. Three other people had already jumped from his broad back before he landed.

One was Ye'ek K'at'el, the Great Shaman who held the highest status in Chichen Itza City after the King and Princess were killed in the Aztec Royal City. He still clutched the staff embedded with the Number Eight Crystal Skull. It was from him that Byron had obtained the status of an upper-class noble of the city-state and had agreed on the details of their joint military expedition.

Another was a middle-aged female shaman Byron had never seen before, clutching a black, humanoid clay urn tightly to her chest. Inside the clay urn was a boy who looked to be only in his teens. Only half his head was visible, his eyes were tightly shut, and he seemed to be in a deep slumber.

Seeing this, Byron's heart stirred. The opportunity has arrived.

He was never one to dispense mercy indiscriminately; he was keenly aware that a business deal pursued too eagerly was never a good one. Saving lives was no exception. No matter how skilled your medical arts, if you could foresee a patient's illness before it struck and took the initiative to approach them, they might suspect you had ulterior motives.

The expeditionary force had left Lake Texcoco, spent three days trekking through the rainforest, and another three days sailing to return to the Tayman Archipelago. In all that time, nearly a week, there had been absolutely no response from Chichen Itza City. One could imagine that if it weren't for some unforeseen, urgent situation, getting them to send the Number Eight Crystal Skull, Kukulkan the Feathered Serpent God, to the Tayman Archipelago and unconditionally cooperate with him would not have been so easy.

Just as he had thought, Geronimo, transformed back into human form, hurriedly stepped forward to make introductions. "Sir, this is Cihuateteo, the Great Shaman of Uxmal, the city-state neighboring Chichen Itza. They've been badly tricked by those People of Castilia..."

Through Geronimo's account, Byron quickly grasped the whole story.

After the Taya Empire collapsed, it fragmented into over a hundred city-states, large and small, mired in continuous internal strife. Each city-state had its own interests and dreamed of restoring the Empire's former glory under its own leadership. If not for the ever-threatening gaze of the Aztec Empire to the north, they might well have already descended into a bloodbath amongst themselves.

Such was the heritage of the native civilizations: death was not the end, and Guardian Spirits required constant offerings. The practice of Blood Sacrifices and Flower Wars was not exclusive to the Aztec Empire. Only Chichen Itza City, which primarily worshipped Kukulkan, the Feathered Serpent God, was one of the few city-states that did not appease its gods with Blood Sacrifices.

Currently, Uxmal, Tayapan, and Chichen Itza were considered the three major city-states of the former Taya Empire (as mentioned in Chapter 132). The experiences of the other two were quite similar to Chichen Itza City's. To secure peace, their own beautiful princesses and kings had been lured to the Aztec Imperial City to attend the wedding of the previous emperor. Ultimately, they all became sacrifices, their essence used to forge the Golden Code from the "collective unconscious sea" of the Tenor People, centered around Tenochtitlan Royal City.

Furthermore, the other two city-states were even more unfortunate than Chichen Itza City. They had acted as vanguards in organizing the Anti-Aztec Alliance. They dispatched a large contingent of warriors, alongside their war proxy, the Kingdom of Castile—an entity they initially underestimated—to storm the Aztec Imperial City. In the end, it wasn't just their princesses and kings who were lost; a significant portion of their elite troops were nearly wiped out by The Bury-the-Dead Plague Doctor.

Geronimo continued, "Because that Bizarre entity spreading the plague designated infected areas according to distance, the onset of illness varied. Most of the warriors in close proximity, affected by the Plague Aura, fell in the Aztec Royal City. However, a few who stood at a distance showed no symptoms at all. One such senior warrior, a royal guard, thought himself unscathed, only to suddenly fall ill soon after returning to Uxmal City. He introduced the plague to the populace even before The Bury-the-Dead Plague Doctor reached their city-state."

He then gestured to the boy. "This is Prince Miktlan, the final heir to the Royal Family after the demise of the King and Princess. Therefore, as you can see..."

Byron mentally finished Geronimo's sentence. So, the tragic experiences of their kin became the final straw that broke the psychological defenses of Chichen Itza City's elite, dispelling their last shred of hope for a lucky escape. As their psychological bottom line eroded, they became willing to pay a far greater price than they would have before disaster struck them directly. As long as my medical fees aren't too excessive, they should be able to accept them. Bringing the sole heir of Uxmal City here, apart from their alliance, is likely also a way for them to 'inspect the goods' first. However, this suits me perfectly. Once there's a successful demonstration, my plan to leverage the situation—eating the upper house then the lower house—can officially begin.

He then activated "Child of the Storm," cloaking himself in a layer of spiritual protection, and nodded to them. "We are all friends who have fought side by side. I will naturally do my best. Luckily, you came early. If you had arrived a few days later, even I wouldn't have been able to save him. Follow me."

With that, he led the bewildered group into the island's cattle pen. Dozens of dairy cows, which Catherine had purchased in advance, were leisurely grazing there.

Catherine stepped forward, dismissed several milkmaids, and, with her hands behind her back, said to Byron, clearly seeking praise, "I personally visited the livestock markets of Jamestown and the surrounding colonies, just as you instructed. Every single one of these 'sick cows' I found fits the symptoms you described, only varying in severity."

For other matters, she might instinctively consider economic issues and try every means to save every copper coin. But as an incurable doting older sister, even if she couldn't understand Byron's intentions, she would fulfill all his requests without question or attempting to cut costs. She had even paid a premium to acquire all the "sick cows" she could find.

Byron activated Echoes of History and looked over all the cows. He noticed that their udders all showed localized ulcers or pustules, just as he remembered.

Very satisfied, he nodded. "Well done. Although some have already healed on their own, most are still in the vesicle or pustule stage, which is convenient for collecting cowpox."

"Cowpox?"

Hearing this completely unfamiliar term—one that had likely never been uttered in this world before—everyone, including Catherine, was taken aback.

"Aren't we supposed to be treating smallpox in humans? What does that have to do with cows?"

Byron knew very well that in an era where bloodletting was still common practice, concepts like contagious diseases, vaccines, and immune systems were akin to knowledge from another galaxy. For the sake of his upcoming plan, he could only explain the principle of his treatment concisely.

"We all know that if a person has had smallpox once, they won't get it a second time after they recover. That's because their body has produced a special substance that resists the virus, which I call antibodies. In fact, if we were to take pus from someone with a mild case of smallpox and infect ourselves, we could also gain the corresponding immunity. But this method of variolation, or human smallpox inoculation, is extremely risky. Fortunately, I discovered that people infected with cowpox—which is essentially smallpox in cows—can also attain the same immunity. Most importantly, the symptoms are mild and not fatal..."

The group began to grasp the gist of his explanation.

One of them remarked, "I see. It's like the 'using poison to fight poison' principle often found in Black Sorcery."

The cowpox virus is only weakly pathogenic to humans, generally proliferating only at the site of inoculation. However, due to its strong cross-immunity with the smallpox virus, the human body develops immunity to smallpox after being inoculated with cowpox. This is truly how one poison can be used to fight another.

But after his explanation, the two shaman Wizards, who had the strongest capacity for understanding and had extensively researched various kinds of Black Sorcery, did not look relieved. Instead, their brows furrowed even deeper.

The female Great Shaman, Cihuateteo, couldn't help but frown and ask, "But Prince Miktlan has already been infected with the plague. If we use this method of fighting poison with poison, by the time your cowpox takes effect, he might already have died from the disease."

Byron pushed up imaginary glasses on the bridge of his nose and smiled faintly at her. "That's an excellent question. To explain why cowpox can be used to treat smallpox patients, we must discuss the difference in onset times between the two diseases. Cowpox develops faster than smallpox. After vaccination, the body will have sufficient antibodies within ten to fourteen days, while the incubation period for smallpox is twelve to fourteen days. Therefore, if one is vaccinated with cowpox on the second day after accidental contact with a smallpox patient, the disease can often be prevented entirely. Vaccination between three to seven days post-exposure also usually prevents onset. Vaccination between eight to ten days can lessen symptoms, but it becomes ineffective if administered after ten days. Currently, only six days have passed since The Bury-the-Dead Plague Doctor emerged, and His Royal Highness the Prince was indirectly infected, so there's plenty of time."

"Really? That's wonderful!"

The senior members of the indigenous city-states instantly found their worry replaced with joy.

Now, the theory was complete; only the practical application remained.

If the treatment is successful, I could easily claim the title Father of Immunology based on this achievement alone. No, there's no 'if.' Just like the invention of the Tudor Hybrid Sailboat, a major contribution that directly changes history doesn't require waiting for its legend to grow; the title and its effects can be granted immediately. There's no inventor of vaccines in this world yet, so I am now, in truth, the Father of Immunology! Plagiarism? Can such a benevolent medical act even be called theft?