Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!-Chapter 1623 - 1154: Escape from Death, Columbus’s Crisis

The sea is a vast and endless blue, the heavens are vast and desolate. Dozens of small boats chase three large ships, the Taino Militia fervently shout and howl, the rowers cut through the blood sea of the setting sun, and the Samurais shoot out whistling flames!

Firelight ignites between sea and sky, flashing like a guiding ghostly lantern, foreboding ominous death. The three large ships have raised their sails full, frantically discarding heavy supplies and cargo, fleeing deep into the Eastern Sea. The frantic Castilian sailors wail and pray, the terrified exploration fleet captains curse and stomp. And the abruptly severed cables and the burned sails hanging down are like judgment falling from the sky!

"Diamine! Throw the burned tail sail into the sea! Throw all the goods into the sea! Throw the supplies into the sea too!...Merda! Throw everything! Quick! Faster!...It's getting dark! It'll be dark soon!...

"Damn! Damn! Damn those Pinzon brothers, relying on their fast ship, they've abandoned the flagship..."

"Merciful Almighty! I beg you, protect us!..."

The Expedition Commander is rushing around the deck with a face full of anger and distress, shouting with fury and pain. The sailors on the flagship, meanwhile, are striving to extinguish the fires in busy haste, praying to God with unprecedented devotion. All cargo and supplies are thrown overboard, just to let the ships go a little faster. And this scramble on the edge of death is like the sharpened sword hanging over everyone's head, constantly approaching, until darkness from the sky comes and covers all danger...

"Holy Mother! It's finally dark! The Demon's Natives can't continue chasing... They've stopped, we're safe!"

The night descends silently, leaving only sporadic flickering firelights. Those sailors who fell into the sea, the burned sails hanging over the ocean, and the cargo desperately thrown from the ships all drift like helpless waves in the deep sea. Finally, in Columbus's tense gaze, the pursuing Native "Demons" stop, starting to salvage the last harvest. And when they pick up five white prisoners from the water, the sincere cheer from their hearts echoes at the edge of the deep sea, causing the sailors of the fleet to shiver in fear!

"Praise the Chief Divine! Praise Vizilobositli!... With the Chief Divine's protection, we've defeated the Evil Demon, we've captured a palm full of Sacrifices!..."

"Almighty! These Barbaric Cipangu Natives! Diamine!... Those goods I threw away, my wealth!..."

The night is the best cover, the west wind laughs in a low tone. All large ships and small boats alike scatter into the pitch-black night, leaving only a scene of joyous celebration and one of heart-wrenching lament.

This night the west wind howls, the sailors sail in the boundless darkness, smelling the salty scent of death and defeat. Until the blurred sea and sky, slaughter and shouts dissipate without a trace, seeming like the finally fading nightmare. A round golden dawn rises from the faint East, illuminating the deserted deep sea and the three sea ships reassembled after a night of escape.

The Castilian Fleet gathers together, anchored in this deep and unknown blue sea. It's clearly in the depths of the sea here, with no trace of any coast, allowing for some rest. And with the daylight, the ships' gunwales and decks can be seen, all burnt and blackened by torches thrown by the Natives, in complete disarray. The largest Santa Maria flagship has only the foresail and main sail left, even the tail sail was burnt. As for all the sailors, they also have blackened faces from the smoke, looking as disheveled as the dark-skinned Natives from the Southern Continent.

"Merda! Hurry and get water, wash the deck!...Huh? The Pinzon brothers are striking the flag and want to come over for a meeting?...Minchia! Those two bastards who fled faster than anyone!..."

Under the captain's orders, the sailors, with low morale, draw water from the sea onto the ship to clean the burnt deck. After this battle and fire, many parts of the ship are damaged. These damages need carpenters to repair urgently, at least reinforce with timber, otherwise, in case of a storm, the ship might break apart. But now they lack ship materials, no place to repair ships safely, and not much in terms of supplies...

"Merda! Wish you would fall into the sea and drown!..."

Columbus gazes grimly, watching the captains of the two Light Sailing Ships, each bringing a few trusted aides, armed, climb the rope ladder onto his own ship. He squints to count for a while, after two bouts of fighting, only 12 people remain on the Pinta, 17 remain on the Nina, plus the 34 on his own ship... Arriving in the Bahamas with an exploration crew of 88, now only 63 remain. But, most are on the flagship, making it advantageous for me...

"Almighty! Damn those Natives! They keep pursuing us, as crazily as the Evil Demon!...If not for the Commander ordering to abandon all the wealth we acquired, our ship would almost have been caught!...Damn it! Big and small Pinzon captains, how did you run so fast?..."

"Alana! Shut up and hold your weapon!...Big and small Pinzon brothers, what are you coming for?..."

Columbus was dressed in a charred black noble attire, his admiral's hat nowhere to be found. His eyes were fierce, clutching the rapier at his waist, as he gazed at the two Pinzon captains boarding the ship, like a hyena whose territory was threatened and ready to strike.

The two Pinzon captains were unfazed, first greeting the royal steward Gutierrez with an effort to maintain their demeanor, then exchanging a few words with the grave-looking second captain De La Cosa. Finally, Martin Alonso Pinzon's eyes flashed across the surviving sailors on the flagship, discreetly glancing at the second boatswain Qia Chu, before turning to Expedition Commander Columbus.

"Greetings to you, Expedition Commander Columbus! Under your excellent leadership, the fleet suffered a disgraceful defeat, having been beaten twice by the natives…"

"Vaffanculo! Big Pinzon, what do you mean?! Merda! Do you want to shift the blame onto me? Battle with the natives and fail, is that my fault?! Furthermore, the first time it was because of you guys…"

"Almighty witnesses! Commander Columbus, my brother is merely stating some facts!"

Little Pinzon Vicente Yañez chuckled, stepped forward, slightly bowed his head, making a gesture almost unnoticeable to Columbus. Then, he looked at royal steward Gutierrez, glanced at the scribe Rodrigo who was injured by stone throw, and said in a solemn voice.

"Respected royal steward, respected scribe, the fleet's supplies are running low… the flagship Santa Maria has suffered severe damage, even the mizzen sail is burned out… it's hard to say it's a suitable flagship!"

Upon hearing this, royal steward Gutierrez raised his brows, exchanging glances with scribe Rodrigo. The loss of the mizzen sail would slow the flagship's speed by at least one-third. And Santa Maria was already slow, should they encounter crazed chasing natives again…

After a brief contemplation, both guessed Little Pinzon's intent, their eyes somewhat intrigued. However, neither spoke immediately, simply smiling faintly, as if observing something.

"Merda! Little Pinzon, what nonsense are you speaking?... I, Columbus, am the fleet's commander, appointed personally by the Queen! The ship I am on is naturally the fleet's flagship!"

"Almighty witnesses! Columbus, the Queen indeed appointed you as fleet commander, but you are probably not competent… of course, I'm just honestly presenting my opinion, not accusing you. After all, even though you cannot bring victory to the fleet, nor wealth to the sailors… even if you are a failed and incompetent unlucky commander, you still have the Queen's appointment letter…"

"Vaffanculo! Big Pinzon! I'll kill you!"

"What? Columbus, do you intend to follow the kingdom's traditions and engage in a duel of valor with me?"

Big Pinzon raised the corners of his mouth, patting the elongated scimitar at his waist, provocatively gazing at Columbus. Facing such provocation, Columbus's face turned red, wishing he could draw his rapier and stab the strong Big Pinzon to death on the spot! But after weighing both sides' strengths, he took a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and shouted.

"Big Pinzon! As a captain under my command, you do not have the right to duel with your commander! What do you really intend to say?"

"Hmm, respected Commander Columbus. As a member of the fleet, we've come this time simply to help the flagship, resolve the flagship's predicament… If I remember correctly, the flagship's mizzen sail was damaged once in the storm. This burned-out one is already a spare sail, isn't it?"

Little Pinzon smiled politely, continuing Big Pinzon's words. He stared at Columbus with deep brown eyes, as if singing a duet, or like alternating approaching old and young wolves gradually revealing greedy sharp teeth!

"Holy Mother bless! The flagship Santa Maria is severely damaged, without a mizzen sail and supplies. In such perilous seas, this is truly catastrophic! But on our two ships, there is still a spare mizzen sail that we can provide to the flagship. We can also spare some food, water, ropes, boards… supply to the flagship…"

"However! We need to replenish the sailors, especially at the heavily afflicted Pinta… Respected Columbus, as the commander of the fleet, you certainly and must help us!"