The Nun cheerfully accepted the check and readily agreed on behalf of her two companions, who either disliked talking or couldn't speak human language, "No problem, we need to land on the island for business anyway, so it's on the way. Leave it to us."
At this moment, the Remit private soldier responsible for constructing the camp stepped forward to report, "Mr. Black, we have now subdued all the natives on this island. The [Beast Tamer] has judged them to be untamable and highly unlikely to cooperate with our construction work. Lunchtime is approaching, and we haven't prepared any provisions for these useless ones. Shall we proceed with their execution by firing squad immediately?"
Silvergold Island emerges unpredictably, but usually for about half a month. It happened to be the rainy season, so these support personnel had to establish a sufficiently stable camp. Even the Remit People did not rule out setting up a permanent trading point here to provide logistical support for those Adventurers in the "Celestial Sphere Circulation." The nomadic tribes themselves are incredibly eager to own land; one could say they have an "addiction to soil." Updates are released by N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
Before Black could reply, the Nun interjected, her face full of pity for the world, "The natives will be riddled with holes from the firearms if executed, and to prevent plague in the camp, we must gather firewood to burn the corpses afterwards. Reduced to ashes, they will never be able to reach the Creator's Heaven in all their lives."
The [Banker], who never considered the natives, or indeed anyone not from Remit, as human, heard her words. He thought this seemingly very kind Nun was merely lamenting the lack of intact corpses for the natives after their execution. He tentatively asked, "Do you mean to give them a hanging that preserves their bodies? That wouldn't be a problem either."
However, Teresa immediately shook her head to correct him, "No, what I mean is, since these people have already been sentenced to death, they naturally can't reach Heaven. So why not just... burn them?"
Human rights are ordained by God, and all souls are equal. But only the Church has the authority to define who is human in this world. Since they are Pagans who don't believe in the Creator, they are naturally no different from plants and trees, unable to enjoy God's glory, much less receive human treatment.
Even her two companions—the [Doppler Swordsman] Herman Schwartz, who had killed countless men, and the [Armed Priest] Brendan—couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat. Even the Religious Tribunal only carried out burning at the stake for those guilty of the most heinous crimes, such as Witches, others also condemned as Witches, and individuals guilty of Heresy...
The [Banker], however, was dazzled by the idea. Even the gunpowder and lead for a single shot cost money! Am I inferior to this Nun in 'cutting costs'? Truly a kindred spirit! His demeanor unconsciously became much more respectful, and he couldn't help but ask again, "The Church has the most experience in dealing with Pagans. Could you perhaps impart a little more of your wisdom?"
With the same compassionate look on her face, Teresa gestured towards her waist and said, "I've read about it in the 'Westward Expedition Chronicles' of the Church's Order of Knights. When it comes to massacring a city, it's all about a fast blade and a ruthless heart. Kill those taller than a wheel, and spare those shorter."
Black was thoroughly convinced and turned to instruct his subordinates, "Did you hear that? Go and get it done."
However, very quickly, it was Sister Teresa's turn to be astonished. Seeing the Remit People's execution site, she waved her hands rapidly, exclaiming urgently, "What are you doing? Hurry up and get the wheel... stand it up!"
It was at this moment that a seven-colored light soaring into the sky nearby interrupted their debate over the treatment of "Pagans." Without further ado, the long-prepared expedition team set off immediately, with the trio naturally joining them.
[Banker] Black watched their departing figures, his eyes reflecting a profound significance.
The Great Cathedral of the Holy Mother's Mercy and the Holy Armed Forces Cathedral are both considered heretical Sects within the Church. The same applies to those Doppler Swordsmen. As double-pay mercenaries of The Holy Silver Empire, they found themselves out of work during peacetime. The Empire, unable to sustain them, forced them to seek odd jobs. Though they mingle with the Traditional Faction of the Religious Tribunal, it's not impossible that they might sway to the Protestant Doctrine's camp.
The common folk may not have noticed, but the upper echelons of various nations are already sensing the storm on the horizon. Optimistically, perhaps within a few years, the Church—this behemoth that has ruled the Old Continent for a millennium—may face a split. It might even spark a religious war sweeping across half of the Old Continent, leaving countless people displaced and homeless.
Capital, by its very nature, seeks to break free from its chains, shake off royal Authority, gain complete freedom, and even seize power for itself. At this crucial moment, it's time for us Remit People to decide where our next investment should be made. This time, I've invested in numerous teams, including the Church, to partake in this adventure. Each bears their own risk. However, as long as one team returns fully laden, I won't lose money. When others are greedy, I am fearful; when others are fearful, I am greedy. As long as I learn to hedge risks, as a Banker skilled in investment, I, Stiel Black, will never lose!
Every investment a [Banker] makes can yield them a profit. And personally overseeing an investment case with immense profits is their Promotion Ceremony to the Fourth Order. The phrase "profiting from scarce commodities" precisely describes a Banker's true calling.
If I can enable one of my investment targets to successfully overthrow a country, my advancement to the Fourth Order will be within reach.
On the other side of Silvergold Island, all the exploration ships that had seen the soaring divine light were in hot pursuit of one another. Among them were those cursed with "Living Death," desperately seeking to end their torment that was worse than death itself. Some yearned for sudden wealth, having resolved to grab just one handful from the legendary mountains of gold and silver and then leave, vowing not to be greedy. Of course, there were also [Pirates] of the Lighthouse Sequence like Byron, here for their Third Order promotion; the "Pirate's Treasure Chest" ritual was common to both, and for them, the path of transcendence was paramount.
Aboard the flagship of the Barbary Pirates, Fat Dragon watched Barbarossa Halding, "Blue Hair," who stood before him. This Viceroy Highness still exuded such an overwhelming aura, dazzling and brilliant. Clearly a viceroy, he nevertheless emanated the presence of a true king, as if he were the very center of the vast sea. A single glance from him felt like a towering mountain pressing down on the hearts of his competitors, compelling them to tremble and meekly make way for the Barbary Pirates' ship.
It's a pity. As the commander of the Guardsmen, I still have no clue what the special effect of the "Blue Hair" title actually is.
Velazquez, the Governor of Havana, who orchestrated all this, also stood on the prow of a Fourth-rate Ship with his personal gubernatorial guard. He caressed a card in his hand, its surface depicting a golden scale.
Silvergold Island will be the final resting place for most of you. And with three uses of the First-Class Sacred Relic, the [Scales of Dominion], borrowed from the Church, the ultimate winner will undoubtedly be me.
Then, he too steered his ship towards the white waterline that stretched to the horizon.
And as this elite force from the Bantaan Archipelago surged magnificently towards Silvergold Island, far away in the middle of Yucatan Island, in Campeche Bay, the closest point to the Aztec Royal City...
"Weigh anchor, set sail! Follow me! We'll plunder the Governor's Mansion of the People of Castilia! Gold, silver, Spices, the Governor's women—they'll all be ours!"
"ROAR! Revenge for all the fallen Aztec people—!"
Under the command of the current Emperor, [Conqueror] Cortes, a Pirate Fleet composed entirely of Aztec Empire natives surged mightily towards Havana's royal harbor. The burning hatred of a man whose wife was stolen cannot be endured! Today, he would repay tooth for tooth, blood for blood, and hat for hat! He would make that "dear" brother-in-law of his understand the meaning of regret.
A famous saying goes: You stand on the bridge admiring the scenery, while someone in a building above watches you.
Everyone thinks they are the protagonist, but perhaps each person is merely a minor supporting character in someone else's story.
Only when the final curtain falls will we see who laughs last, and who laughs best!