Xingyue, is Xiaokai also considered Kai?

However, she wouldn't actually say it to Bavan Shi.

"I didn't expect we'd think the same way. That's great. The thought of us together cutting him down makes me quite happy." Tralock tossed his hair. "The rain stopped a while ago. I'm thinking of going out for a walk. Do you want to come with me?"

Bavan Shi pondered for a moment, then shook his head sharply.

She should just stay here and learn the Aztec language.

The black-haired girl didn't insist and went out on her own. Of course, within the temple grounds, Tralock still used magic to conceal her presence and avoid being discovered. After all, she knew that although she could borrow the power of the Rain God and the Left Hummingbird, she was not actually two people, so she had to show them the necessary respect.

'Yes, Tenochtitlan is indeed a great and beautiful city.'

When Tralock's vision came into view of Tenochtitlan after the rain, although his expression remained indifferent, he couldn't help but feel a surge of joy inside.

'While Constantinople and Rome, as that guy described, do possess some beauty, they certainly can't compare to Tenochtitlan. Tenochtitlan is truly the world's number one city!'

The heavy rain had stopped, and the sky revealed its timeless azure, making Tenochtitlan after the rain resemble a pearl gently touched by clear water.

The surrounding lakes became even clearer and more transparent after the rain, their surfaces shimmering like jewels embedded in the city. The large trees by the lake swayed gently in the breeze, and fallen leaves touched the water's surface, creating ripples, while numerous blades of grass were covered in dew.

The reflections in the lake and the clouds in the sky complement each other, creating the stunning 'Tenochtytland'.

Although this was not the first time Tralock had seen such a scene, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that he was used to it.

But what's amazing is that even though it's a place she's used to, she still loves it immensely.

A grand temple dedicated to the gods, the Lake of the Moon that forms the basis of existence, and people struggling to survive within the cruel rules of this world—

Everything looked exceptionally bright and vibrant.

The city I built around myself is so wonderful.

The black-haired girl, who is the embodiment of the Lake of the Moon, loves 'Tenochtedland' from the bottom of her heart, because she is also Tenochtitlan.

'Hmm... this aura is...'

A gentle breeze caused subtle vibrations in the air, lightly brushing against Tralock's skin.

She could sense a strange disharmony in it, after all, this was her city.

The atmosphere in the city never used to flow like this, nor did it ever brush against my skin like this.

The slight change will only occur after that guy arrives, says he has borne the sins of Quetzalcoatl, and actually carries them out.

Therefore, Tralock instinctively looked up to see if Favia was nearby.

Sure enough, she only glanced around and noticed the silver-haired young man talking to a child not far away.

Tralock wasn't too surprised by this situation. After all, she understood the complexity of Favia's propaganda and the things she had to do, so it was quite normal for her to spend all her time walking around Tenochtitlan. It was also common for her to encounter a few believers on the road because of his identity as the 'Messenger of Quetzalcoatl' and his actions.

Therefore, she did not go up directly to interrupt or intervene, but waited until the two had finished talking and Favia had walked away before she went up to ask the child.

What were you talking about just now?

Perhaps out of consideration for the fact that the other person was a child, Tralock tried his best to make his expression appear gentle.

"Ah, it's the Divine Envoy..."

The child paused for a moment, seemingly conflicted, when Tralock asked him the question.

Tralock stepped down, his face very gentle.

At this moment, the child seemed to have discovered something, and spoke up:

"God has made your eyes like Lord Favia's."

".....Same?"

“Yes.” The child nodded. “On this road, Lord Favia always gazes at those who come to him, as if his eyes are shining, as warm as the sun.”

Tralock nodded slightly upon hearing this: "However, he is not the sun, he is just a person."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, it's my fault."

The young child said this, his tone slightly tense.

After all, the sun holds immense significance in the Central and South American world.

"It's okay. Can you tell me what you and he were talking about just now?"

"Hmm..." The young child fell into deep thought, then cautiously asked, "Can you promise not to tell Lord Favia?"

"I promise."

The child, relieved to receive Tralock's promise, then looked in the direction where Favia had left with shining eyes. "I just told Lord Favia that I wanted to become a warrior to assist him and participate in the story he wanted to create, but Favia refused."

"....reject?"

These words puzzled the black-haired girl. She thought that Favia would simply go along with the child's request, but she didn't expect her to refuse so directly. However, she didn't see any disappointment in the child, which was a bit strange.

"Well, Lord Favia didn't mean I couldn't assist him, but rather that he hoped I could have a story where I was the protagonist."

".....Yeah?"

"That's what Lord Favia said—"

Earlier, the silver-haired youth said this to the confused child.

“I am happy that you have this idea, and I am proud of you. If possible, I would like to hope that a peaceful era will come before you grow up, and I also hope that you can write your own story stroke by stroke. I firmly believe that the story you write stroke by stroke with your own choices will be an incredibly wonderful and meaningful story that I will witness.”

He says,

"Oh, by the way, let me tell you a name—"

Many people offered their blessings for the man who abolished human sacrifice, and he would respond to their blessings.

“Kuautmok is not a gift from God, Lord Favia said—”

The child said,

"This is a sound of courage bestowed upon us all by the great 'sun' and blessed us throughout our lives."

After hearing Quautmok's explanation, Tralock involuntarily closed his eyes quietly.

...gradually filling up.

Something dazzling gradually filled 'Tenochtytland'.

Light is hope.

Hope is human.

As time goes by, people are born, shine and give off light, but their short lives will eventually pass away.

The radiance of life is more brilliant and noble than any jewel; one can never tire of looking at it.

The mysterious figure cherished, yet also pitied, these lights.

Even though these starlights are so faint and powerless to dispel the darkness, just as no matter how hard the stars try to shine, the true dawn will never arrive.

The darkness of the eternal night is deep and thick as ink, easily obscuring the faint and scattered starlight.

The ancient and cruel world both hated and longed for a dazzling star, comparable to the 'sun,' to banish the darkness.

Therefore, it was only then that Tralock truly realized that a brand new future, unlike anything before, would be born on this land, in this ancient and cruel world.

"...Indeed, it's a name that sounds very good, very, very good..."

She looked up at the sky and saw the sun in the vast, unchanging blue sky.

"Quautmok, that's really a very good name."

......

Two weeks later, Favia, located in Tenochtitlan, received the following news—

A group of people carrying strange weapons and dressed in strange attire arrived on the eastern coast of the Aztec Empire.

Indeed, this was the eleven ships and over six hundred soldiers led by Hernán Cortés, a colonist of the Spanish Empire.

239: Rebuke, rebuke the passing of light (5k5)

The gentle rays of dawn spilled onto the tranquil sea in the southeast of the Aztec Empire, creating golden ripples.

A total of 600 people stood on the eleven ships about to land. All of them gazed through the hazy sea fog at the new land before them, their faces filled with complex emotions, a mixture of curiosity, anticipation, fear and determination.

"It must succeed, it absolutely must succeed..." The man standing at the bow of the ship had a fanatical look on his face, his hand gripping the longsword tightly. "Damn Velázquez, when we get back I will definitely knock you out of the position of Governor of Cuba!"

The man was Hernán Cortés, who, in history, gained the trust of Montezuma II by using the legend of the "Return of the Feathered Serpent" and, together with countries that harbored resentment towards the Aztec human sacrifices, destroyed the Aztec Empire.

On the day Tenochtitlan was completely conquered, the Aztecs suffered from food shortages and were tormented by the smallpox epidemic brought by the Spanish, ultimately resulting in the death of three million Aztecs from smallpox.

Therefore, during the Spanish colonial period, he was hailed as "an adventurer who conquered the new world with guns, horses, and smallpox".

However, Cortés lived in poverty in his later years, and the Spanish royal family basically ignored his requests for assistance. With no one to rely on, he had no choice but to return to Mexico, where he could still depend on the children he had with the locals. But he died of illness after arriving in Seville, Spain.

In his will before his death, he stated that he was not sure whether it was morally right to possess Indian slaves, which made him uneasy. Objectively speaking, this attitude was nothing more than knowing that he was doing unjust things by taking advantage of the trust of others, and thus fearing punishment from 'God'.

He didn't think of these things when he used Mongols' trust to destroy the Aztecs, he didn't think of these things when he used smallpox to kill millions of Aztecs, he didn't think of these things when he used firearms to carry out massacres; he only thought of the immense wealth he could obtain afterward.

Even after finding an excuse to hang the last Aztec leader, Kwautmok, Hernán would occasionally suffer from insomnia and self-harm while wandering at night... This deep-seated moral condemnation could not stop his insatiable desires at the time.

Contact between different cultures did not take place in a harmonious context, but under the banner of war and conquest.

In the conquerors' self-portraits, they are portrayed as heroes in the popular medieval chivalric novels of the time, defeating a vast empire with negligible strength—a myth passed down through generations in textbooks and virtually unchallenged for centuries.

After the Mexican War of Independence, Hernán, who was hailed as "Cortés the Great" during the colonial period, and Marinche, the "Mother of the Mexican Nation," were deeply hated by the locals after they learned the truth. Ultimately, Mexicans regarded Cuauhtemóc, the last monarch of the Aztecs who died unyielding, as a national hero who resisted invasion and defended independence, and he became one of the most respected figures in Mexico.

And at the intersection of Reforma Avenue and Insurgents Avenue in Mexico City, a magnificent bronze statue of Cuauhtemoc stands as a monument.

As the ship slowly approached the shore, Cortez took a deep breath, his chest heaving as if he were suppressing an excitement comparable to Columbus's discovery of the New World.

He turned to the people who had followed him and said:

"We are about to set foot on this new land, which will bring us wealth, let us possess it, let us have riches and glory, all the wealth will be ours!"

In fact, Cortés was now in dire straits. As a figure widely recognized for his rebellion against the Governor-General of Cuba, if he could not make a significant contribution in time to obtain permission from the King of Spain, he would face imprisonment upon his return.

On the island of Cuba, Cortés was the treasurer. His relationship with the Governor-General of Cuba was one of mutual reliance, yet also one of constant wariness and hostility.

Earlier, Cortés persuaded the governor to allow him to lead an expedition to Mexico.

Spanish explorers had discovered Mexico as early as 1518, but no one had yet set foot deep into the land. Cortés decided to explore and see if he could find anything.

The Governor-General of Cuba granted his request, but revoked the mission authorization at the last minute before Cortés was to depart. However, Cortés ignored the Governor-General's order and resolutely set sail.

The six hundred so-called soldiers who came with him were mostly unemployed vagrants, drunkards, bankrupts, and some even thugs who couldn't get land or Indian slaves. Their most valuable life experience was the rich experience they had accumulated in fighting against Muslim forces on their homeland.

Some of them had fought against the French in Italy or contributed to the previous colonial war against Cuba. Although they were poorly educated and illiterate, they were veterans with strong religious beliefs and were highly effective on the battlefield.

However, there was an unexpected turn of events. Hernan frowned as he looked at the old man dressed as a priest on the other side, who remained unmoved by his declaration.

In fact, Hernan considered this guy a ticking time bomb. If he hadn't been in such a rush that he didn't have time to deal with him, he would never have allowed the old man to come up.

"Hernan Cortez, I want to tell you something on behalf of the great god: the people on this continent have souls just like us."

In contrast to the crowd who were excited about acquiring wealth, the old priest appeared remarkably calm.

"Hehe, don't tell me about this. Tell them instead. Those natives are clearly a bunch of inferior, disgusting beasts in terms of culture, technology, and spirit."

Hernan retorted to the old priest with a look of disdain.

This is the view of most Europeans, except there are always exceptions.

"No, that's unjust."

The old priest was named Bartolomé de Las Casas, a 'famous' figure in the Spanish Empire at that time.

After witnessing the suffering of the Native Americans, I gave up my land, freed my slaves, became a priest, and devoted my life to fighting against violent colonization.

After Columbus 'discovered' the New World, the Spanish royal family hosted a famous theological debate on whether the Native Americans had souls. Naturally, most people believed that Spain was the superior civilization to the Native Americans, and that those barbarians were inherently inferior.

Bartolomé, however, was quite rare and stubbornly believed that the Native Americans of the Americas had their own souls and should be treated as free people. He argued that the civilizations of the New World Native Americans and the ancient civilizations of the continent were the same, with no distinction of superiority or inferiority.

In response to his rebuttal, the King of Spain laughed and declared him the 'Guardian of the Indians,' but made no change to the basic colonial strategy.

Although Bartolomé opposed the colonists' massacre and mistreatment of Native Americans, due to the limitations of his historical context, he could not possibly understand that colonialism itself was evil. Therefore, he did not oppose colonialism itself, but sought peaceful colonization.

In other words, he only wanted to change the course of the violence, and was not busy liberating the locals and condemning the conquerors. He advocated spreading the gospel to the locals, which was itself a kind of conquest, on a spiritual level.

In fact, the spread of the Church's faith was a devastating blow to the religions of the Aztec region. In 1525, Quautmok's last words before his execution were as follows:

“Ah, Marinche, I knew all along that you would have Cortés execute me like this, and I have seen through your lies, for it is unjust for you to execute me! Let God punish you, for I should not have done so when I surrendered to you in Mexico City.”