Conquistador Cultivator

It's the year of our lord 1518, and I'm on a ship to Mexico. My sanity is hanging on by a thread, and only writing in my diary helps. This is life number three, and I'm back in my own world only 500 years or so in the past. Here is the kicker: the world is filled with soul-hungry spirits. I can see them in everyone, and I think sometimes I feel them crawling on me. Not all of it is bad; I have a knife, wood to carve, and a diary to write in.



We are on a ship to Mexico, where we'll conquer the Aztec Empire if Buttercup Captain Alvarado's mare doesn't kill us all first. I'm not the only one she's managed to kick in the head.



I managed to block off a closet, and there I have begun testing what I like to call the Malevolent Heavenly's influence on chi. The spiritual energy of the universe feels tainted, and I have no idea why. Something immeasurably significant that I can feel from hundreds of lightyears away is coming for Earth. Monsters are fighting over the souls of men and I have to stay in my lane or else feeling these creatures will drive me mad.