The azure sky was like a clear wash, with white clouds drifting by. The sea was like a mirror, with specks of waves sparkling. The fleet set sail from Great Shrimp Lake, traveling along the extending coast, slightly northeast, covering 250 miles before reaching the rivermouth of another Great River.
The Great River surged with abundant water. Chiwaco stood at the bow, estimating slightly, he knew the river was at least two miles wide and stretched as far as the eye could see. Judging by the rushing flow, the upper part of the river must pass through a vast region.
"Tikalo, what river is this?"
"Oh! You an this river? It’s sothing extraordinary!"
The Maya rchant Tikalo glanced for a mont and replied with a smile.
"This is the Rio Champoton! The upper reaches of the grass river twist continuously to the east, extending hundreds of miles, even connecting to the desolate central basin. This waterway, during the Maya Classical period, was a golden waterway, allegedly over a thousand miles long. Many goods from the Snake City Calakmul were transported along this route all the way to the coast, then turned north. However, after the divine disaster, the upper reaches of the grass river gradually dried and were cut off, leaving only this downstream half... Even now, many Maya tribes settle or hunt along this freshwater-rich river."
"Settle or hunt?"
Chiwaco was slightly taken aback. Could there be hunter tribes in this rainfall-abundant Yucatan Peninsula? He was a bit puzzled and asked further.
"This Long River is so wide and long, with plenty of freshwater. The land along the shore looks flat and fertile enough to support tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of people farming. Why are tribes hunting in such fertile places that are still desolate? ... Isn’t that wasting this good land and water!"
"This... who knows..."
Tikalo pondered hard but had no answer. In the mysterious Yucatan Peninsula, there are too many unknown questions and baffling phenona, which no one can explain.
"Actually, now the central basin also has abundant rivers and rainfall. It used to support millions of ordinary people! However, after the divine disaster, various tribes flee from there, turning the fertile land into a green desert, and it’s still unchanged... Maybe all this is the will of the Divine!"
All unknowns are attributed to the Great Power of the Divine! This is the simplest and most irrefutable answer. Chiwaco scratched his head, his eyes flickering, and remained silent.
Tikalo observed for a while, then pointed southeast from the river mouth. His expression beca slightly solemn, and he spoke earnestly.
"Captain Chi, look, four or five miles to the southeast, there’s a small town. If I rember correctly, it should be Chakan Putum, ’an area rich in grass,’ the Great Prairie City!"
"Chakan Putum, Great Prairie City?"
Hearing this na, Chiwaco was taken aback and looked around. Along the journey, the shores were swamps and rainforests, but in this area, it was full of long grass and sparse trees, suddenly broadening the view. Deer leaped between the long grass, birds paused on the sparse trees, and vitality was everywhere.
At the edge of his vision, the old militia diligently searched and finally found a simple small town. This small town was very low and small; it was more a village than a town. On the north side of the town, near the river, there were a few sparse farmlands, not yet in the planting season, overgrown with weeds. Around the small town was a shallow wooden fence, with a low temple at the center. From miles away, one could vaguely see so wandering tribespeople, with unknown intents.
"It’s really strange..."
Chiwaco stroked his chin, thought for a while, then asked.
"Tikalo, along the way, it’s all forests. Why is the land suddenly open here? Speaking of rainfall and rivers, it shouldn’t be much different from the south..."
"Uh..."
Faced with such an odd query, even a well-read person like Tikalo was montarily stunned. He pondered for a while, then answered uncertainly.
"Maybe it’s the divine power of the Moon Mother Goddess or the Rain Divine? This river often floods during the rainy season, subrging the surrounding forests..."
Chiwaco shook his head, denying it.
"But the Hidden Snake River and the Red River we passed earlier also flood often. Yet, the forests there are lush."
"Then perhaps it’s the divine power of the Wind God, bringing hurricanes during sumr, destroying the large trees along the way. I rember the sumr winds here are strong, affecting the coast."
"Along our route, the sumr wind has been strong. The Vastec land also faced hurricanes, yet the trees are still tall."
"Hmm... It could also be the manipulation of the Earth God. There are deep wells in this area that spew black oil. We used that black oil when repairing the ship. Where black oil erges, trees hardly grow."
"No, in Vastec as well, there’s plenty of black oil..."
"...Oh! Then it must be the divine disaster from six hundred years ago!"
Facing a series of questions from the old militia, Tikalo’s divine and wise mind couldn’t withstand the test. He couldn’t help but reminisce about the simplistic Jaguar Warrior Olosh back then. Despite both being "simplistic," the Jaguar Warrior was indeed genuine, whereas the old militia in front of him was a total fake!
"Divine disaster? What exactly is the divine disaster?"
"Uh... the divine disaster, I don’t know either. It could be decades of floods, it could be decades of droughts, it could be decades of wars, and it could also be..."
At this point, Tikalo paused slightly. He spoke with an internal fear, revealing the final, despair-inducing record of the ancestors.
"...the rain of stars falling from the heavens!"
"Hiss! Rain of stars?"
On hearing this, the old militia widened his eyes, gasping.
"How could the stars in the sky fall down?"
"Because the Divine got angry, the Divine Descendants all died, and the stars fell!"
Tikalo pursed his lips, recalling with difficulty for a while, then spoke in a low voice.
"The exact process, not much was told by the ancestors. There is just that epic..."
Hearing such an exclusive piece of information, the flagship crew leaned forward to listen to Tikalo’s story. Tikalo hung his head low, his words deep and laden with the icy chill of death.
"...The enraged All Gods dropped the burning stars. Stars fell like heavenly fire, igniting everything impure! Forests burned, farmlands burned, city-states also burned. After the splendid burning, there was overwhelming dust and unspeakable cold. White ashes fell, corn would all die, and people, bare-bodied, froze stiff in the temples... That was the most terrible divine disaster, at its violent peak, it could annihilate the entire world!..."
"O Chief Divine! Please shield , grant light and warmth!"
Upon hearing such terrifying descriptions, Puap shivered, praying loudly. Priest Tomate also lowered his eyes, pondering silently. Only the old militia thought for a while, confusion once again surfacing in his old eyes.
"Tikalo, the heavenly fire burns, releasing a great deal of heat. But then, why does your ancestor say that after the heavenly fire, there would be a terrible cold? There must be so secret in this..."
"Uh! ...Captain Chi, your imnse wisdom surpasses mine. This question, I... I have no answer."
Tikalo’s mouth twitched, he bent his head, showing a wry smile.
"Perhaps, you could ask my ancestors in your dreams..."
"Hiss! Ancestral protection! Quick, look at the shore!"
Just at this mont, an urgent call rang out from the eagle-eyed Mountain Bird, filled with anxiety. His interest in the southern tribe’s divine disaster wasn’t much. After all, the Northern Continent’s winter was full of white divine disasters, even lasting for half a year!
His gaze had been carefully observing the southeastern village. In his eagle-like eyes, he could clearly see a group of wandering tribespeople stopped abruptly, astonishingly looking towards the shore. Then, like rabbits, that group of tribespeople sped off, rushing back to report to the Great Prairie City.
Soon after, a green smoke rose! And thousands of tribal warriors, holding long spears and carrying darts, poured out from behind the Great Prairie City, howling as if packs of hunting hounds had spotted their prey.
"Four hundred, eight hundred, one thousand two hundred, one thousand six hundred, two thousand!..."
Dark Snake widened his eyes, desperately estimating, then shouted loudly.
"Ah! Over two thousand tribal warriors are converging on the fleet! And they have more than a hundred canoes!..."
"Damn it! Where did this Maya tribe co from? Moving as fast as the wind, gathering so quickly!"
Huitu Puapu was dumbfounded, incredulous. He hesitated for several breaths before imdiately blowing the conch around his neck, shrieking loudly.
"Everyone! Armor up, arm yourselves with bows, set up long spears, prepare for battle!"
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