Xingyue, is Xiaokai also considered Kai?

This shows that Spanish missionaries essentially destroyed local religious beliefs in less than six years.

In fact, Bartolomé's suggestion was to replace the enslavement of Native Americans with the enslavement of Black people. In his later years, Bartolomé deeply regretted this, believing that "enslaving Black people is just as unjust as enslaving Native Americans."

Although Bartolomé had some weaknesses in his thinking, these were inseparable from the historical context of the time. Defending the Indians and opposing the atrocities of the colonial rulers was the mainstream of his life's struggle, a stance fully reflected in his later important document, "A Brief Account of the Destruction of the West Indies," which exposed the various atrocities committed by the Spanish colonists.

"Are you trying to stop me, you old man?"

Hernan's face immediately turned cold. If he had the chance, he really wanted to kill this priest.

However, this is highly unlikely, because the old priest's faith was so firm that while some veterans with religious beliefs wouldn't obey him, they wouldn't do anything recklessly, even if it meant risking their lives... Moreover, Hernan vaguely knew that this guy had abilities different from those of a musket, something like magic.

"I only hope that you will not commit murder, but will spread our God's love in a more peaceful way."

"Ah."

Hernan didn't say much about it, but when the boat finally touched the shore, he was the first to jump off the boat, staring at the seemingly endless dense forest, while at the same time, strange bird calls and insect chirps could be heard from time to time.

The six hundred men who followed him also jumped off the ship and surrounded Cortez, their faces beaming with excitement and curiosity. They looked around at this unfamiliar land as if they were eager to obtain its riches.

However, before the excitement on their faces could fade, they subconsciously swallowed, because a slight, violent tremor came from not far away.

Hernan's face turned pale, and even Bartolomé's expression became serious.

Such a rapid response clearly indicates that they were discovered by the locals while at sea; otherwise, it would have been impossible for them to react so quickly, with such organization and speed. This suggests that this is likely not a place like the Native American settlement, but perhaps some kind of large empire.

In fact, they weren't wrong. Although the Aztec Empire was called an empire, it was essentially more like a union of city-states. Now, under Favia's leadership, it needed to unify the local states and carry out comprehensive reforms, which would take a lot of time. However, given Favia's status, prestige, and personal charisma, it wasn't a major problem.

The reason why the news of Hernan's landing was discovered so quickly was entirely because Favia had long ago requested that the waters off the southeastern coast of the Aztecs be closely monitored and that many soldiers be stationed around them.

"This is troublesome..."

Hernan couldn't help but sigh. His heart was now half-shaken, and the hope he had just held for the future had vanished instantly.

It wasn't just him; most of the more than 600 people were like that.

As time went on, Hernan breathed a sigh of relief, even though many locals surrounded him.

Because they had no firearms, nor any equipment comparable to that of the Spanish, they only had exquisitely designed scimitars and dressed like the Native Americans.

Hernan also noticed the group's surprise at them. He followed their gaze and realized they were looking at the horses he had brought.

The quick-witted Hernan naturally noticed their confusion about the horses, and thus immediately guessed that there were no horses present.

Time ticked by, and the atmosphere between the two sides was incredibly tense. Knowing that the longer it dragged on, the worse it would be for morale, Hernan steeled his resolve, picked up his musket, and fired a shot into the sky. The flame from the muzzle seemed to illuminate everything around them in broad daylight, freezing time in that moment.

The echo of the gunshot reverberated in the vast blue sky, lingering for a long time. The sound, like a heavy hammer, struck the heartstrings of the Aztecs, causing them to shudder involuntarily. The gunshot and the flash of light were like a brand, deeply etched into the memories of these Aztec warriors.

Hernan was actually gambling that these aggressive guys, like the Native Americans, didn't understand the principles of firearms and regarded them as some kind of divine weapon.

After all, although firearms are not very lethal, they are very intimidating to primitive tribes.

Just as Hernan had predicted, the Aztec soldiers surrounding them were inevitably frightened as they watched this man, whose skin color was similar to that of the divine messenger Favia, spew out a ball of blazing fire with a strange weapon and emit a piercing sound.

What is this thing? Could these people also be messengers of Quetzalcoatl, like Lord Favia? Then why are they using such a strange object? Are they here to punish us?

Despite their fear, the Aztec leopard warriors suppressed their terror and stared unblinkingly at the Spaniards.

Because they still remember what Favia said: he has already endured the wrath of the Second Sun, and the Second Sun will never inflict wrath upon you again.

Therefore, having already placed their deepest trust in Favia, they would never back down out of fear.

When Hernan saw that his actions had failed to instill fear or trepidation in the Aztecs opposite him, his mood once again plummeted.

He couldn't understand why these beings, who were clearly of low status, weren't afraid of firearms. Could it be because they had seen them before? Or perhaps someone had arrived here before him?

In short, Hernan's confusion will not be resolved anytime soon, because the two sides cannot communicate in the same language, and even if he wanted to launch a forced attack, he could not guarantee that he could defeat this group of people who were not only numerous but also afraid of firearms.

The Aztecs and the Spanish remained deadlocked. Not long after, Hernan saw a silver-haired man with a distinctly different complexion slowly emerging from the Aztec army.

So that's how it is. No wonder these guys weren't afraid; someone had already arrived. In that case, let's see if we can make a deal with him. So many lowly beasts need to be managed by us, the better ones.

Hernan, who regarded the slowly approaching Favia as just like countless other colonists, finally breathed a sigh of relief. After all, even if he didn't gain much wealth, it was better to survive.

"Hello, sir, I am Hernán, a Spaniard—"

"You used a musket?"

Just as Hernan was about to introduce himself, Favia suddenly spoke up.

This question puzzled Hernan. Was it really so strange to use a musket? Wasn't the reason those beasts weren't afraid because you had used one before?

However, he only thought these words to himself and wouldn't say them aloud, since he was currently at a disadvantage. Therefore, Hernan nodded.

"Um......"

Hernan, who was about to say something more, noticed that Favia's gaze swept over their group and finally settled on Bartolome.

"Are you a priest at the church?"

"Ah..." Bartolomé, who had been somewhat dazed, quickly came to his senses and nodded. "I am a priest from the church in Spain. My name is Bartolomé de Las Casas. And you are?"

Bartolomé had an indescribable feeling about the silver-haired man in front of him. Not only was his gaze somewhat piercing, but his unique demeanor was also evident in his mannerisms. If he hadn't controlled himself, he would have felt as if he had done something irreparable.

"I know why you've come."

Click.

The silver-haired man struck the earth with his obsidian sacrificial knife.

"However, you are just the pioneers. It won't be long before the Cuban governor's troops arrive in quick succession."

Click, click.

He returned to the Aztec warriors.

The lingering smell of gunpowder mingled with the coolness of the dense forest coast, creating a unique atmosphere.

"Let me introduce myself first. My name is Favia, and I am the messenger of the second sun of the Aztecs."

Click, click, click.

"You know what? I've heard this said to others before—"

The silver-haired man stood in front of the Aztecs, gazing indifferently at them.

These words were like a sudden storm, restoring the scene to its initial tension and making it impossible to predict what would happen next. The obsidian reflecting the sunlight was like the prelude to the discovery of this isolated continent, foreshadowing the brutal battle that was about to unfold.

“You, my friend, can you, on that sorrowful height, rage, rage against the passing of light?”

The atmosphere of harmony vanished, replaced by an atmosphere of slaughter. As Favia's voice faded, the Aztec leopard warriors, who had been waiting for a long time, immediately charged towards the Spaniards and began their carnage.

"........"

Bartolomé looked somewhat bewildered at the battlefield where the battle had broken out.

He felt he should use magic to help, but felt powerless to use his magic.

This group of people, whether they were Native Americans or not, brandished their weapons and began to kill. The soldiers who came with the Spanish were not particularly professional, so they were quickly defeated, and the smell of blood stained the coast.

And there was the silver-haired man who remained standing in the same spot, silently watching all of this unfold.

Bartolomé had a strange illusion at that moment, as if a huge angel statue holding a sword and scales aloft appeared in his eyes. He was very familiar with it because it looked exactly like the statue of Michael on Mont Saint-Michel.

Archangel Michael, who judges the sins of the dead with scales and repels the 'serpent' with a sword, is undoubtedly one of the most famous angels.

"This is......"

The priest didn't know what to say, but his inner faith wouldn't allow him to look away.

Could this be considered blasphemy?

Because in his eyes, the archangel raising the holy sword high was not a declaration of victory for faith, but rather seemed to be following the swing of the obsidian sacrificial blade.

What it seeks to penetrate and tear apart is—

Do not go gentle into that good night, for old age should burn and roar at dusk; rebuke, rebuke the passing of the light!

You, my friend, on that sorrowful height, rebuke, rebuke the passing of light.

A gospel stained with blood and darkness.

Demon Cui.jpg

240: The Guardians of the Indians (4k5)

“You, my friend, on that sorrowful height, rebuke, rebuke the passing of the light.”

When Favia's words reached Bartolomé's ears, the old priest was somewhat dazed.

Over the years, he has defended the rights of the indigenous people of Cuba as a Spaniard, thus he is regarded as a "traitor" to the Spanish people by some, while some indigenous people regard him as a "saint among robbers".

Bartolomé's father was a merchant, and his family had been Christians for generations. He was intelligent and quick-witted from a young age and often played in Palos de la Roque, a town near his hometown of Seville.

One could say that if things had continued this way, Bartolomé's life would have been quite ordinary. But fate is unpredictable. When he was nine years old, the arrival of a certain person not only changed his destiny but also the destiny of all of Spain—

That day, the entire port of Palos was completely surrounded.

Bartolomé squeezed through the crowd and saw the navigator, with his white hair and weary expression, seemingly unremarkable, until he spoke, word by word:

"I, Christopher Columbus, have discovered a new sea route to India!"

People cheered like a pot boiling over, "My God, Columbus has discovered a new sea route!" The news spread like wildfire throughout Spain, and everyone remembered the name Christopher Columbus, including Bartolomé.

Not long after, Bartolomé's father was encouraged and signed up to be a crew member on Columbus's second voyage.

In 1498, his father returned, bringing with him an Indian boy to serve as a servant.

This was Bartolomé's first encounter with Native Americans—their skin was dark, and their expressions were hesitant and frightened.

However, he thought the Native Americans weren't the monsters he imagined; they were no different from ordinary Spaniards.

In 1500, Bartolomé, then sixteen years old, came to study at the University of Salamanca, an ancient university that was the center of Spanish humanism. The teachers spoke freely, discussing the justice of war, questioning the legitimacy of colonialism, and talking about the idea of ​​"equality".

At the time, he couldn't understand these complex concepts, but humanistic thought still permeated his mind.

By the time Bartolomé came of age, people already knew that the land Columbus discovered was not "India," but a land that had never been marked before—the Americas.

However, this land also offers countless opportunities and riches, and Bartolomere, like many Spaniards, couldn't resist the temptation to go and see for himself.

He signed up to be a member of the Odovan Expedition, and his heart surged like waves on the vast Atlantic Ocean.

Several months later, they arrived at "Spain Island" 6000 kilometers away as they had hoped.

It is said that when Columbus arrived, there were 300 million Native Americans on this island. However, nine years later, everything has changed and it is no longer as prosperous as it once was.

In any case, the decrease in the number of Native Americans meant an increase in unclaimed land, which was a good thing for the Spanish colonists.

Thus, Bartolomé, now an adult, became a "guardian lord" on the island of Spain, owning a piece of land in Sihua and some slaves, thus entering the ranks of the ruling class. Just a few months ago he was a greenhorn in Seville, and in the blink of an eye he became a big shot in Sihua.

Bartolomé was ecstatic. He now had his own "little kingdom" and could wield the power of life and death. In Spain, Europe, this was a privilege usually reserved for noblemen.

In 1510, he was appreciated by the Bishop of Hispaniola and smoothly became a priest. At this time, he was young, promising and extremely glorious.

If it weren't for the 'Call of Montesinos,' Bartolomé might have been like most believers, indifferent to the lives and deaths of the Native Americans.

In fact, the first group of Spanish Dominican priests were very dissatisfied with the atrocities committed by their own colonialists. So in 1511, they jointly drafted and signed a sermon, deciding to use a sermon to launch a public condemnation. The most eloquent of them all, Anton Montesinos, was chosen as the speaker.

On December 21, 1511, just four days before Christmas, the colonists on the Spanish islands were waiting to repent, hoping God would forgive their sins committed during the year. But on this day, the colonists, including Diego Columbus, son of Christopher Columbus, were met with a devastating condemnation—

"I am the cry of Christ in the desert on this island."

"Therefore you had better listen carefully, not just carefully, but with all your heart; this is a newest, roughest, most severe, most terrifying, and most dangerous cry that you have never heard of or anticipated before."

Montesinos’ sermon began with a famous quote from the Gospels.

"This cry means that you have all committed a capital offense."

“You were born in this sin and you will die in this sin because of the cruel tyranny you have inflicted on these innocent people.”

“Answer me, what right or justification do you have to subject the Indians to such cruel and horrific enslavement?”

"What right do you have to wage a catastrophic war against these people who live in their own peaceful and tranquil land, causing the deaths of so many Native Americans and suffering unspeakable destruction?"

"How do you oppress and enslave them, denying them food and medical care, plunging them into unbearable labor until they die?"

"Shouldn't we say that you're killing them every day in order to dig for gold?"

"Aren't they human beings? Irrational souls? Aren't you obligated to love them as you love yourself?"

This is the historic "Call of Montesinos," whose question, "Aren't they human?" can be seen as a more thorough declaration of human rights, predating and surpassing the British Magna Carta, the American Declaration of Independence, and the French Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, because it refers to people without any conditions attached, including the Native Americans who were considered savages at the time.

However, unlike the priest, everyone present was annoyed by these words.

They thought to themselves, "We went through all sorts of hardships to come to America just to rob us of money and territory."