Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

Chapter 2181 - 1575: A Pale Presence Awaiting in the Ship’s Hold

"The light of the Cross is infinite, may the Almighty bless the Queen!..."On the wharf of Seville Port, the shouts of the Holy War veterans were like thunder, the prayers of the priest’s chamberlain like lightning. As the flash of thunder and light passed by, the dust on the ground remained unchanged. Seville Port was still a place where prosperity and urban squalor intertwined.

The wheels of the horse carriage rolled over the bluestone and compacted dung, leaving a trail of fresh horse manure. Iron-nailed wooden wheels clashed with the disordered ditches, splashing out turbid urine. Hearing the sound of their kin, the herd of pigs grumbled towards the cargo ships by the sea, only to be met with the curses and shouts of the pig herders. Piles of stinking salted fish lay beside wooden barrels, the flies buzzing around forming part of the fish meat themselves.

"Cough, cough! Bah!..."

Passing merchants and pedestrians walked freely through the filthy port alleyways, occasionally spitting and stomping off the sticking mud on their boots. They had long since become accustomed to the crowded prosperity of the commercial port cities, and the filth that was inseparable from it, as if it were the two sides of a coin, this was always the way it has been.

In the late Middle Ages at the end of the 15th century, the drainage ditches from the Ancient Rome era had long been forgotten in Europe for millennia, and municipal management became a forgotten legend. The priests abhorred and resisted bathing, fearing evil spirits and plague would enter their bodies during bathing, bringing the curse of the Demon. The nobility were no different, using various strong perfumes to mask their even stronger body odor.

It was only in the last decade or so that the wealthy Italian commercial city-states, especially the Renaissance northern Italian states, began to rebuild aqueducts to separate sewage from household water. Outside the Italian commercial city-states, whether it was Lisbon, Paris, Barcelona, or Seville here, excrement and water flowed everywhere, livestock and humans freely relieved themselves, presenting a "completely natural" scene. The Guadalquivir River of Seville in this era, the Seine River in Paris, carried away more waste than the Ganges in India did in later generations!

This was late 15th century Europe, cities were physically cesspools, also "godless lands" overrun with plague. Various plagues and epidemics had long "peacefully coexisted" with city dwellers. Among them, one of the most common was "smallpox."

In Castile, "smallpox" had various names and was often confused with other epidemics. Some called it "red sores," others "hot poison," or "boil plague"... most typically, it was called "children’s sores." It was the fate of every city child! Almost every 15 years, when a new generation was born, "smallpox" would re-emerge in the city, taking away 30-50% of children’s souls. It was the most important cause of child mortality in this era, with no exception.

As a prosperous trade port, residents growing up in Seville City had all undergone this "Almighty’s destiny trial." During their childhood to teenage years, they were bound to experience a bout of "smallpox." Once they recovered, they would not catch it again, those who couldn’t make it simply perished. After an initially terrifying mortality rate, through centuries of deaths, selection, adaptation, and continuation, city residents gradually achieved a reality akin to "herd immunity." This "sore outbreak" plague slowly came to be regarded as a "children’s disease," "children’s sores."

Of course, if "weak-bodied country folk" entered the city and encountered a periodic "smallpox" outbreak, they would have to pass through the God of Death’s scythe. Their fate was either being driven out of the city to fend for themselves or being thrown into a "disease facility" forcibly isolated with other plague patients, usually an annex of a Monastery and Church’s hut or shack. Monks would provide a portion of food and water, using kindness and devout prayers, the "Almighty’s radiance," "Lord’s Holy Water," to "cure" them.

Such food and water supplies and "treatment" generally wouldn’t last long. After all, following about a ten-day incubation period for smallpox, it quickly enters the outbreak phase with fever and rash. Furthermore, in this era, the more virulent strains of smallpox were not in the minority, and hemorrhagic malignant smallpox was quite common in Europe. From fever and rash, to pus and bleeding, to death, the second ten days would reveal the outcome. If one could withstand the life-or-death test of the first three weeks, with sufficient food and water, scabs would begin forming in the fourth and fifth weeks. In other words, a month’s "Almighty test," meant either life or death!

In European cities, "smallpox" was not the only plague that regularly broke out. Compared to other diseases, "smallpox" patients actually received decent treatment. After all, "smallpox" was just "children’s sores," once a citizen had it, they would be immune to the virus for life and needn’t worry about contracting it again, thus there was no hostility towards it.

However, if one contracted "Black Death plague," this high-mortality, recurrently spreading bacterial disease would incite widespread citizen panic and hostility, resulting in "purification by the Almighty’s flame"!

Indeed, in the eyes of people from this era, "Black Death" was surely "the Demon’s erosion." Only blazing fires could preemptively annihilate this demonic danger, this potential catastrophe that could kill everyone in a city, at its inception. Only flames could purify everything, completely incinerate the Evil Demon lurking, along with the insufficiently devout and Demon-afflicted patients!

"Cough, cough! Disgusting!..."

The salty and fishy sea breeze wafted by, among the strong men transporting barrels of food and water from the ship fleet, a disheveled middle-aged man suddenly bowed his head and coughed vigorously for a while. The nearby young man with a face full of brown spots paused his steps, looking over with some concern.

"Old Juan, what’s wrong?"

"Cough! Cough!... Lopez, I feel like vomiting. These things from the city folks, they’re too hard to swallow. That fish smells rancid, no matter how much you wash it, there’s this stink... I still long for the wheat cakes from my old home in Arevalo, and the fragrant wheat porridge cooked with green beans and turnips, that’s the aroma... Slurp! Cough cough!..."

Old Juan spoke a few words, swallowed hard, and couldn’t help but cough and retch again. Next to him, his fellow townsman Lopez looked worried, while helping Old Juan rub his feverish chest, sighing softly.

"Ah! The city looks like the pigsty back home, I don’t know what’s so good about it. Things are expensive and hard to eat, even dark bread costs several copper coins... Our prosperous Arevalo Territory is still the best! If it wasn’t for my parents giving me three older brothers, leaving me with no land, I wouldn’t have enlisted..."

Arevalo Territory is located in central Castile, not only the first domain Queen Isabella inherited from her biological mother but also where she lived during her childhood. The Queen has special trust in the citizens of this territory and holds extremely high prestige among them. In this pioneering expeditionary army by the Royal Family, the vast majority of armed colonists are strong men from this personal domain of the Queen, recruited by a Royal Decree.

"Cough cough! Lopez, help me carry a wooden barrel... I’m a bit out of strength, my back hurts..."

"Ah! It’s all because of these miscellaneous tasks over the past two days. Luckily, we’re setting sail tomorrow... Old Juan, once the fleet is out to sea, you can rest for a couple of days... When we reach that allegedly oil-rich India, they say there are good lands everywhere! We’ll plant green beans and turnips first, then sow wheat next spring, come autumn we can eat wheat cakes and porridge!..."

"Ah! Sowing wheat, come next autumn we can eat wheat porridge... Cough cough! The Queen will protect us, the Holy Mother will protect us too!... Cough cough!"

"Indeed! May Virgin Mary protect us!..."

The sea wind continues to blow, the coughs intermittent. Two recruited farmers from Arevalo carry water barrels onto the supply ship transporting goods. These two supply ships have large loads, unlike the combat Clark Galleons, they basically have no firearms.

At the moment, the ship’s hold is already filled with food, fresh water, watered wine, along with several pairs of chickens, ducks, geese, two pairs of breeding pigs, a pair of breeding cattle, and wheat, grape seeds, beans, olive saplings, vegetable seeds. In addition, there are various tools and household items prepared for establishing colonies, including iron nails, saws, axes, shovels, hammers, ropes, brick molds, as well as clay pots, wooden barrels, oil lamps, sewing kits, kitchenware, grinding stones.

From these transported colonial supplies, one can immediately see the productivity level of the Castilian countryside, and also see the Royal Family’s ongoing determination to expand colonization and completely control the Atlantic New Route!

"Cough!..."

Low coughs emanate from the dirty port, merge into the sea breeze, drift across the busy deck of strong men, and infiltrate the cargo-laden hold. No one knows what has remained, or what is about to depart.

A pale presence waits quietly, needing no sails, unfamiliar with stars. It hides in the weakened body of a middle-aged man, in the shared blankets of sailors. It waits, drifts, spins, circulating from mouth to mouth in the ship’s hold, switching hosts who may have seen it or perhaps haven’t. And by the end of the long voyage, beyond the endless sea, only then will it reach the end of its journey, only then will it raise its cold scythe, laugh silently, to reap the ’warm straw’...

"JaJaJaJaJa..."