Swinging the sword to cut through the clouds and dreams

In the year 1469, the Aztec Empire in Central America was at its zenith. A soul from the future transgressed time to come here, intent on saving the fate of the Indian people from destruction and establishing an empire in Central America!

The Age of Exploration had just begun its prologue, with European colonizers venturing into the unknown world. Europeans were on the rise, intent on conquering the rich lands of America and colonizing the vast New World. They were poised to embark on an expansion that would take them from America, to Africa, to India, to the Far East, and control the world for the next five hundred years!

But now, an immortal spirit sought to change all of that. He would unite Central America under one rule, inherit the two-thousand-year legacy of American civilization, and resist the invasion of Western colonizers. He would spend centuries leading Aztec civilization onto the path of destiny to conquer America!

Without the land and wealth of America, what would become of the Westerners? And in which direction would the world turn?

Aztec Civilization: Destiny to Conquer America!

At last, the young man lowered his voice so that only the two of them could hear.


Bertade's lips slightly curled up. He nodded solemnly, half drew the longbow, and aimed carefully. After reflecting on his past experiences, he adjusted his aim slightly upward.


Tikalo's body shook like a sieve, and his legs went weak. Sweat beads rolled down his forehead, over his cheeks and neck, carrying the intense aroma of pineapple, as if it were soul-stirring.


Time seemed to stretch on like a century. Then, with a "buzz" of the bow trembling and a "whoosh" of an arrow shooting forth, followed by a "bang," the pineapple exploded, splashing juice in all directions.


The Mayan merchant trembled in fright. The force of the arrow knocked him backward, and his weak legs could no longer stand steady. He fell heavily backwards, hands still not daring to let go, as the juice of the pineapple flowed down his slender forehead, slid past his breath-held nose, and entered his parched mouth.


Chapter 108: The Merchant and Feathers_2