Aztec Eternals

"Marino, do not be afraid! The Lord protect us!"

As the mountain wind blew, the old knight Lorenzo looked solemn, his beard and hair stretched out. He stretched out his hand, firmly grasped the hand of his subordinate Marino, and asked in a deep voice while giving him courage.

"Tell me, what are the symptoms of the plague?!"

"Ah! It's a demon possessed!!"

Marino finally plucked up the courage and yelled out in fear. After a while, he tried his best to calm down, and then described it carefully with some fear.

"I heard from some people that the symptoms of this plague, at the beginning, were a fever all over the body, and a large number of red spots appeared on the arms, back and chest. But after a day or two of the onset, people who got it were like being possessed by the devil. , screaming and screaming, scratching all over! In the end, they will all gangrene, their muscles will fester and die”

"Yes! Yes! I was close to the blocked camp at night, and heard all kinds of horrible shouts, just like the devil!"

Hearing this, another follower, Marco, couldn't help but speak, even his voice was a little trembling.

"Lord! That painful and crazy voice is like coming out of hell!"

"Yes, yes! The Lord testifies that after that night, people were burned the next day! There was a lot of burning, and the smoke was huge!"

"This is the devil's curse, the new Black Death!"

The terrified and chaotic echoes came from the mouths of other subordinates, casting another layer of mysterious terror on this unknown plague. These subordinates present were all experienced in many battles, even in the face of several times the heretics and the bombardment of artillery, they still maintained the courage to fight!

However, once encountering the power related to the devil, encountering this invisible terror, all the courage and will to fight seem to be defeated in an instant. This is the knight in the Middle Ages. While believing in God, he also fears the devil.

"Damn it, the new Black Death! Now, something really happened!"

The old knight Lorenzo had a sullen face, thought for a while, and then took a deep breath. Then, he looked at the bewildered young knight Giovanni with a frightened face, and made a decision.

"Giovanni, we are not going back to camp!"

"Ah? Won't you go back?"

"Yes! God bless us, we got the news in advance and avoided the dangerous new plague! This plague has already broken out in the besieged camp. Although we don't know what it is, many people will definitely die! Let's go back at this time, You are playing chess with God of Death, looking for your own death!"

"Ah! Yes, Lorenzo, you are right! So, where shall we go?"

"Let's head straight north, retreat into the Kingdom of Castile first, find a safe village, and replenish some food. Then, without stopping, we head northeast all the way to the port of Valencia, a thousand miles away!

"What? Travel thousands of miles all the way to the port of Valencia?!"

Hearing this, Giovanni was surprised, with hesitation flashing across his face.

"Could it be that we want to withdraw from the jihad?"

"Giovanni! What time is it, are you still thinking about jihad? Since old Sylvester asked me to bring you here, I will take you back whole and intact instead of bringing back a body A corpse, or a heap of burnt ashes!"

The old knight Lorenzo looked majestic, and his words were unprecedentedly severe.

"Since we have decided to stay away from the plague, we must avoid it to the end! After we arrive at the port of Valencia, we will find a boat to Venice. Then, we will return to the Republic by boat immediately. The jihad on the peninsula will never be with you again. I have nothing to do!"

"This! This?. Just leave Jihad like this?."

Hearing this, frustration and unwillingness appeared on the face of the young knight Giovanni. But under the expression of reluctance, his body relaxed a little. The old knight Lorenzo's eyes flashed, and he could see the choice in Giovanni's heart. This young man's body is very honest, but he still can't wipe his face and needs a step up.

"Giovanni, it's so decided! Your father, old Sylvester, once said before coming here. If you encounter a big decision, you have to listen to me! This is my decision, and it is also yours. Father's decision! Let's go now!"

"Eh?. Your decision, and father's decision. Father's order."

The young Giovanni was in a trance for a moment, then sighed. He turned his horse's head halfway, and was about to leave with the old knight Lorenzo, when he suddenly saw the Moor captive tied to the pack horse.

"Lorenzo! We are leaving, what about this Moorish messenger?"

"Well the messenger of the Moors"

The old knight Lorenzo pondered for a moment, and the corners of his mouth gradually turned up. Before leaving the jihad battlefield on the peninsula, maybe he still had time to teach the young Giovanni the last and most crucial lesson.

"Giovanni, without this sudden plague, the mountain city of Bassa would have fallen soon. But with this plague, the direction of the next war is hard to say."

"Huh? Lorenzo, why do you say that?"

"The Lord is a witness! Think about it, the morale of the holy war army in the besieged camp was low. Now that the plague has broken out, many crusader knights from various countries will leave the morale of the Castilian army. It got even lower."

The old knight Lorenzo smiled slightly, and pointed out the situation of the holy war, as if he had a plan in his mind.

"Although King Fernando of Aragon is good at planning, cunning and wise, he is not an inspiring and handsome talent! On the contrary, Queen Isabella of Castile is brave, pious, decisive and fearless, just like Joan of Arc. A commander who can inspire people in desperate situations!"

"In the siege camp right now, an unprecedented plague has broken out. Once the plague spreads, the morale of the camp will drop to the bottom. King Fernando in the camp has no ability to appease the hearts of the soldiers. He will delay it for more than half a month at most, and after a month, the withdrawal of troops is imperative!"

"Lorenzo, that is to say. The Moorish defenders in the mountain city of Barcelona, ​​as long as they persist for another month, can they survive this round of siege?"

Hearing this, the young knight Giovanni blinked. He looked at the Moore captive on the packhorse, and suddenly realized that the Moore messenger he captured might become the key to changing the overall situation of the jihad!

"Ah! Then, the messenger, the news he brought back?"

"Not bad! He is the key."

The old knight Lorenzo stroked his beard, lowered his voice, and asked with a smile.

"Giovanni, if the mountain city of Barcelona can hold on, and King Fernando returns without success, then our retreat at this time will become a wise choice in the eyes of everyone. The Moors survived this round of siege, and Castile The Yaquan army retreated, and if they wanted to organize an attack again, they would have to wait at least until next spring. With the half-year gap, the Moors might sort out their internal affairs and resist for another two years."

"The jihad has been fought for eight years. The Castilians spent at least 30-40 million Malawidi copper coins, which is more than 700,000 to 1 million gold ducats, in order to supply an army of 60,000. The debt they owe us to the Republic of Venice is between 300,000 and 500,000 gold ducats. Since the church has come forward to guarantee, the interest on this jihadi debt is only about 10% per annum, but the interest is also included in the principal.”

Speaking of this, the old knight Lorenzo smiled, as if he was no longer a glorious knight, but a greedy businessman.

"Giovanni, do the math, if the war goes on for two more years, how much more will the Castilians owe us?"

"Ah! If the jihad is fought for two more years, it will cost 70,000 to 110,000 gold ducats just to pay interest on the republic's old debts! And counting the new debts, at least 200,000 new debts will be added! Plus the 20,000 interest on the new debt. That is, that is the size of 300,000 gold ducats!"

As the heir of the Venice Councilor, Giovanni's ability to settle accounts is beyond doubt. He bent his fingers slightly, counted twice quickly, and even his fingers trembled.

"Lord! In other words, the value of this Moorish captive may be 300,000 gold ducats?!"