This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

One soldier pulled out an exquisite mechanical pocket watch. When he opened the cover, revealing the constantly rotating gears inside, the surrounding Aztecs gasped in surprise. They had never seen such a sophisticated mechanical device before, and the movement of the metal gears seemed to have a life of its own.

"Teotl! Teotl!" someone in the crowd shouted.

"They say it's divine power," Edgar explained. "In their opinion, only gods can create something that moves on its own."

Another soldier produced a few glasses, causing an even greater stir. As the exchange deepened, a spontaneous bartering session began. Crusaders produced knives, scissors, glass beads, and even simple steel wrenches—items commonplace in Europe but incredibly valuable here.

A young Crusader traded a steel knife for a mask inlaid with turquoise and excitedly showed it off to his companions: "Look at the craftsmanship! Even the best craftsmen in London can't make such a fine inlay!"

Another traded a peculiarly shaped glass for a necklace inlaid with jadeite: "This is real jadeite! It will sell for a lot of money in London. I made a lot of money on this overseas trip!!!"

Neos watched the trade with a mixture of joy and worry. This friendly exchange was a good thing, but he also worried that the soldiers' greed would lead to unnecessary conflict. Suddenly, a loud shout broke through the clamor of transactions: "Gold! Look, it's gold!"

A Crusader held up a fist-sized gold ornament that he had just exchanged for a cross from an Aztec noble. The gold gleamed in the firelight, immediately attracting the attention of all Europeans.

"It's really gold..." the captain muttered to himself, with greed glittering in his eyes.

The Aztecs quickly noticed the outsiders' fervent interest in gold. While precious to the Aztecs, gold was primarily a symbol of the radiance of the sun god, not for its inherent economic value. Seeing the "messengers of the gods" so fond of gold, many Aztec nobles and priests offered their gold jewelry in exchange for the magical European items.

The square suddenly turned into a chaotic market. The Crusaders rushed to exchange various items for gold and gems, and some even took off their boots and belts to exchange.

"Calm down! Maintain order!" Neos had to raise his voice to stop the chaos. "Remember our identities! Don't treat our guns as fuck!"

But the seeds of desire had been sown. When the troops gathered for roll call a few hours later, Neos was surprised to find that almost every soldier had amassed a bounty. Some had pockets filled with small gold nuggets, others had backpacks stuffed with jewels, and some, like the second mate, even filled their helmets with gold nuggets and gems.

"All I used was a watch, a dagger, a few crosses, a glass, and a music box," the second mate proudly showed Neos his loot. "These things are worth a fortune here!"

The captain stood not far away, staring at the glittering treasures with burning eyes, and the expression on his face was chilling.

"These are just the surface treasures of the city. If we dig deeper, we might find even more gold..."

As night fell, the Aztecs lit a massive bonfire in the center of the square and began a grand welcoming ceremony. Because this was the "messenger of Quetzalcoatl" and "the incarnation of Quetzalcoatl," there were no human sacrifices, but instead dance and music. Dancers, adorned with ornate feathers, spun around the bonfire, beating rhythmic drums and playing a variety of musical instruments.

Some well-fed crusaders joined in the dance, and although their movements were clumsy, the Aztecs seemed to appreciate this friendly gesture, and cheers rose one after another. This warm and harmonious scene made Neos relax his guard a little.

Neos sat on the temple steps and tasted the food provided by the Aztecs.

"Tortillas, chili-flavored baked potato chips, popcorn, and fried sweet potato fries... woooo! I have it in my life!"

These foods were so familiar that they reminded him of the delicacies of his hometown before he traveled through time. Tears could not help but flow from the corners of his mouth and eyes.

"An interesting civilization." Edgar sat down beside him. "They are not the primitive people we imagine. They have writing, calendars, astronomy, and even a complex theological system. Their calendar is also very accurate, and their mathematics is not far behind."

Neos nodded. "Their civilization took a different path from ours, but that doesn't mean they're backward. I feel like they might have something we lack."

"For example, their understanding of nature?" Edgar mused. "I learned from the translation that they believe that humans, nature, and gods coexist, rather than being in a relationship of dominance and subjugation."

"Ah."

Neos's gaze swept across the celebrating crowd. "The question is, can we allow these two civilizations to coexist peacefully, or will history always repeat the same tragedy?"

"The same tragedy?"

"No, it's nothing."

Neos didn't elaborate on the tragedy of the alternate timeline. The two quietly watched the dancing flames of the campfire, each pondering the future of the clash of civilizations. Behind this brief moment of peace, Neos had a vague premonition that a greater conflict might be brewing.

On the other side of the city, the captain was talking in low voices with several of his confidants.

PS: 260 votes, next update 4.5k meow....refresh every 5 minutes, added some interesting pictures

Red Tide: 1921: Chapter 56: Northern Burma

The Warp Hell is in a hidden corner that even Neos won't find.

It was a crimson chaotic realm, with a magnificent palace made of gold, gems and greed standing in the center.

“Hum, hum, hum, ahhhhhhh!!!”

Inside the palace, Mammon—the lord of greed and wealth—was pacing back and forth anxiously.

"God bless you! Seventeen more are missing!" Mammon roared. "Three thousand and twenty-eight servants haven't returned this month!"

Several demons prostrated themselves on the ground, not daring to look up at their master. One of them replied tremblingly, "Great Lord of Greed, we sent a reconnaissance team to the shallows of the Aether Sea, but they... have also disappeared."

"Waste!" Mammon waved his hand, and the demon instantly turned into a golden statue. He kicked the statue into the molten gold pool beside him.

"I have to see for myself what's going on!"

His consciousness penetrated the layers of the Warp's barriers and reached the boundary between the real world and the Warp. He cast his gaze upon the believers in the human world, using their eyes to search for his missing servants.

In an area north of Budapest, He discovered something unusual—a familiar yet unfamiliar energy fluctuation.

"Is that... my power?" Mammon focused his consciousness in that direction in confusion.

"BOOM!!!" "Ahhh! My eyes!!"

The next moment, a blinding blue-white light nearly charred his 24-karat gold eyes. Mammon let out a painful roar and quickly retreated to his own realm. The light was so intense that even the Lord of Hell could hardly bear to look directly at it. But in a brief glimpse, he saw it—a massive astronomical torch, burning with blue-white flames, and the flames' fuel...

"It's my family!"

Mammon was furious. "The Cursed One! How dare he use my power to sustain his flame!"

After regaining his composure, Mammon once again carefully directed his consciousness toward the Astronomican. This time, he maintained a safe distance, observing the events of the human world through the eyes of his followers. He saw a simple yet effective trap—

Neos's subordinates captured several wealthy Jewish merchants and had them call upon them through the Warp, offering a deal. Greedy low-level demons rushed in, only to be captured the moment they emerged by the surging Crusaders, while the living saint, possessed by the cursed, stood by and watched.

The demons screamed as they were thrown into the Astronomican, burning to become fuel to sustain the flames.

"That's why my servants are disappearing one after another!" Mammon thought angrily. "They're being used as firewood! Slaves to money!"

Yes, Mammon is the Lord of Greed because he can become the master of wealth, rather than letting wealth become his master. Obviously, the group of demons and believers under him have already allowed wealth to become their master.

As for Mammon?

Who is He? The one who gave me money?

He gathered his strength, ready to destroy the Astronomican in one fell swoop. His consciousness transformed into a hammer made of gold coins, and he struck the Astronomican with all his might. However, at the moment of contact, the blue-white flames within the Astronomican erupted, scorching Mammon's consciousness.

"Hiss!" Mammon regained consciousness in pain. Several scars appeared on his spiritual body, and blood oozed out. "Damn it—damn it!"

The pain and humiliation drove Mammon into a frenzy of impotent rage. But he couldn't possibly seal off the shallow ether sea—as a demon representing greed, he knew all too well what kind of people his subordinates were. To prevent them from trading with creatures in this world would be sheer folly!

"But I can no longer add my strength to this Astronomican," Mammon said to himself.

At this moment, a foul smell filled the palace and the sound of flies flapping their wings was heard.

"Dear Mammon," the voice of the newcomer was like the simultaneous buzzing of thousands of mosquitoes and flies, "you don't look... well."

"Beelzebub," Mammon said, looking at the Lord of Plagues warily. "Why are you here with me when you're not repairing your city, which was half burned down by the cursed one?"

"Of course we are united. We have a common enemy, don't we? The Accursed not only defeated my Plague Legion, but are now hunting your servants."

Mammon narrowed his eyes. "So?"

"So we should join forces. Acting alone, we might not be able to deal with his blue-white flames. I have a plan..."

Mammon pondered. He and Beelzebub had never been close; rivalry and suspicion always existed between the lords of Hell. But at this moment, the desire for revenge overcame caution.

"I'm listening," Mammon said. "What are your plans?"

Beelzebub's bloody smile was chilling: "Neos sent a fleet to the New World. They are far away from the Astronomican, away from God's protection."

Mammon's interest was piqued: "Continue."

"The captain of that fleet is consumed by a lust for wealth," Beelzebub said. "I can provide the plague, and you will lure us with greed. Through him, we can destroy Neos's foothold in the New World and carve out new territories for ourselves."

"A joint operation...interesting, but you must remember, Beelzebub, I am not your puppet."

"Of course, of course!" Beelzebub made an exaggerated bow. "We are equal colleagues. We share a common enemy and a common goal."

Mammon nodded slowly, "Then let's begin. Neos uses my power as fuel, and I want him to taste what it feels like to have his own power twisted!"

Together, they cast a spell, channeling their combined power through the bonds of their followers into the present world. Their target was Captain Scott, a mortal whose heart had been saturated with the seeds of greed. As the spell was complete, the two Avernus Lords simultaneously erupted in unholy laughter, a chuckle that pierced the barriers of the Warp and echoed between the two worlds.

A major plan against Neos has officially begun.

----------

A mysterious area somewhere in the forest outside the city

The sea breeze was mixed with the scent of the tropical jungle and was a bit stuffy. The confidants didn't understand why Captain Scott called them to this secret place.

"Gentlemen," he turned to several trusted officers and crew members behind him, "We have arrived in the New World, and this is just the beginning. Look at how we have exchanged those cheap industrial products for wealth that you could never earn in your lifetime in just one day! Don't you want more?"

"This isn't a civilized world. There's no one to collect taxes, no judges, no law and order. We're the only ones here!"

He unfolded a crude hand-drawn map showing the coastline surveyed by the Kilkenny's seaplane. "According to the descriptions of the natives, there are vast city-states inland, each with its own treasury, storing countless gold and emeralds."

"But..." The navigator had some concerns, because their team must return to the European continent. The gold and silver as abundant as mountains and seas are just general equivalents. They can only be spent in Europe, and all this -

There was no way to get around Neos who took them back and forth.

"But the Saint will stop us!"

"So what? Think about it, Malloy!" the captain said excitedly to the navigator, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "That's a continent! What Saint Neos said is true. This continent is much larger than Europe. Gold and silver are freely mined, and there are countless rare species. It's simply the Garden of Eden given to us by God!

What's that saying? As long as you believe in God without ever adding anything to Him, He will give you back a hundredfold. This is our blessing!

Scott's lips curled up. Ever since he'd set foot on this land and seen the natives, adorned with feathers and holding golden objects, a burning desire had ignited within him. It wasn't just a yearning for wealth; it was an unspoken desire, as if a voice whispered in his ear day and night.

"Those savages," said Scott, "don't even know the true value of gold. They can exchange a few pieces of colored glass for hundreds of times their weight in gold."

"We can exchange them with industrial products, such as ironware, cloth, and even some simple mechanical devices. These are miracles to them, but the cost is negligible to us," suggested a confidant.

Scott nodded, but the voice inside him grew stronger.

This is too slow.

{Why exchange when you can just take everything?}

The weight of the voice in my heart gradually increased.

"These methods are too gentle," Scott said suddenly.

"We need more—direct means."

The officers looked at each other in surprise and the atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense.

"Captain, what do you mean?" the navigator asked cautiously. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong? I feel fine!"

The moonlight shone on Scott's face, reflecting a distorted face with greed flashing in his eyes.

"The natives have no resistance to European diseases. We must use the plague; it will be more effective than the ship's ammunition!"

"No! This is blasphemous! The Church expressly forbids the deliberate spread of the plague. Captain, this is a crime punishable by the stake!"

"Fool," Captain Scott whispered, "There are no Inquisitors here. We just have to pretend we don't know."

"But—if anything unexpected happens... and this is heresy, you might be killed by greed—" "Uh ah—"

Under the horrified gazes of his many confidants, Scott drew his sword and directly killed the questioning follower!

"The church says keeping a few ounces of gold is personal property, and keeping a few more ounces is heresy. Such regulations should be criticized."

"I think we can go all out on this kind of thing. Right now, the church is short of money, short of guns, short of everything, but it's not short of policies (referring to the church regulations in this article). Now that we've come to this rich Garden of Eden, do we still have to be constrained by policies?

I think it's better to call this place the Crusader Administrative Zone. After all, when Christianity first spread to the Middle East, it was also called the Missionary Zone! Rome is short of money now, but it can relax some of its doctrines. Let's raise money ourselves and fight our way out!

At some point, clouds outside the window obscured the moon, plunging the room into darkness. Scott felt a surge of warmth coursing through his body, and the voice in his heart became clearer and clearer.

{Take away everything, leave no one alive, gold and silver are eternal.}

"I propose," Scott stood up, "that we spread smallpox in a planned manner. Europeans are generally resistant to smallpox, so we'll be fine. The only ones who will be in trouble are those godless heretics."

The quartermaster in the team held the cross, as if it could give him courage. He frowned and said, "Captain, Saint Neos has clearly instructed us to live in peace with the natives and establish trade relations."

"Let the cursed ones go away," Scott's voice turned cold. "We represent the interests of Europe and are only seeking the welfare of all mankind!"

"The... the cursed...? Captain—you—"

Even the most obtuse of people could sense something was amiss. The atmosphere in the room grew tense. Several officers spoke in low voices. Some wanted to contact Neos to report the situation, but the bewitching whisper within them held them firmly in place. Scott, on the other hand, felt that voice urging him to go further.

"No, smallpox doesn't kill people very often," he said suddenly, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. "It also spreads relatively slowly. What if the plague doesn't kill the natives? We can't afford to engage in a full-scale war with an entire continent. We need something more effective."

The navigator looked at him in shock. "Captain, are you suggesting that we—"