After Guerrero's death, the Mayan territories slowly fell under Spanish control.
Cortés did not spare the remaining three Mayan kingdoms either.
Spain was filled with pride after this continuous chain of victories.
To honor Cortés, a grand celebration was organized.
Important dignitaries from Spain arrived in Mexico to attend the ceremony.
One by one, the guests shook hands with Cortés, praising him as they entered the hall.
A fat pig had been roasted for the feast, and a wide variety of delicacies were prepared.
Once everyone was seated, the Spanish representative stood up and read aloud the message sent by the Emperor.
"Cortés…"
The moment his name was spoken, thunderous applause erupted from the crowd.
"Spain is proud of you.
Today, the entire Mexico stands under our control.
This would not have been possible without you.
Having witnessed your leadership and strategic brilliance, I, the Emperor of Spain, hereby appoint you as the administrator of all the conquered Mayan territories."
As the proclamation ended, cheers filled the hall.
Cortés rose to speak.
The entire gathering fell silent, waiting for his words.
Outside, the Spanish military camp glittered with decorative lights, shining like a festival of victory.
Cheran stood near the entrance of the Galeria Cave, silently watching the illuminated military camp from a distance.
Pachama whispered,
"Cheran… you're still awake?"
"You're awake too," he replied softly. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
"You woke up… that's why," she said gently.
"Don't let your mind wander. Come… Itzam Na will surely show us a way."
Back at the celebration, Cortés spoke:
"Winning a battle is not as important as preserving that victory.
If we focus on the right measures, this success will last forever."
Commando nodded.
"That is absolutely true, Mr. Cortés. What is your plan?"
"Weapons," Cortés replied.
The room stirred.
"But I don't mean guns or cannons.
Even if our enemies seize those, I'm not worried.
The real weapon… is education.
And that must never reach our enemies."
"What should we do to prevent that?" Commando asked.
"Nothing," Cortés smiled coldly.
"I've already done it.
The day I captured the Aztec kingdom, I declared education a crime."
Commando paused.
"Then… what about the Mayans?"
"I understand your question," Cortés replied calmly.
"Resistance will continue as long as their culture survives.
There is only one way to control them."
"What way?"
"Wait and watch."
The very next day, Spanish soldiers advanced in cannons, destroying the Mayan trade routes.
Believing the cannons to be fire-breathing beasts, the terrified Mayans prostrated themselves in surrender.
As they raised their hands, shackles were fastened onto their wrists.
They were divided into groups of 150 and imprisoned in enclosed camps.
Their legs were chained as well.
There was no distinction—women, children, or the elderly.
Everyone was forced into brutal labor.
Those who couldn't work were tortured further.
The Spanish extracted the wealth of the Mayan lands using Mayan labor itself.
Despite endless work, the Mayans were given food only in measured portions.
Once a people who lived on maize, palm fruit, beans, and diverse crops,
they were now fed nothing but roasted maize—three times a day.
Even for that, they had to stand in long queues.
Cortés reduced the Mayans to menial laborers.
Their only drink was diluted vanilla juice.
In their own land, the Mayans were living worse than refugees.
Meanwhile, Sam brought Rebecca to his house.
He went straight to the basement and handed her high-quality lights.
Rebecca examined them.
"These are fine, Sam… but we need smaller ones to carry inside the cave.
We need four more compact lights."
"No problem, ma'am. Fifteen minutes."
The Mayans' hearts were still filled with Guerrero.
They waited, praying for another leader like him.
And indeed, another Spaniard arrived—
one who resembled Guerrero in presence…
But his intentions were entirely different.