“Ah!”
Vicente González, governor of Spanish Santa Elena, greeted the freshest, clearest morning of his life along with the sound of birdsong.
...Why? Why was the air here so sweet? Why did the breeze blowing through the window feel so pleasant?
‘...Because this is the very place where I was spiritually reborn.’
Vicente shed tears of emotion again as he tidied his bedding. Considering his status as a prisoner and the circumstances of this settlement, the sleeping arrangements provided in the farmhouse were quite luxurious.
On top of that, despite being rammed by that monster, his body was miraculously unharmed.
He was a lucky man.
In any case, after opening the door and taking in the fresh morning air to his heart’s content, he first went for a light run to wake up his body, looking around the farm as he did.
“Haa... Good heavens...”
There was not a single thing that failed to draw an exclamation from him.
The cleanly plowed fields, the well-tended garden despite it being winter, and even the mansion, which was not enormous but possessed an unfamiliar and mystical atmosphere.
Beautiful. There was nothing that was not beautiful.
As he ran about like that several times, traces of the previous day’s battle caught his eye here and there.
For example, that wire fence.
Surely when that “beast” had rammed him... and then rammed into that wire fence, it had been torn and twisted beyond repair.
And yet today, as if it had all been a lie, it had been restored to its original state and once again separated the farm from the outside.
Next, the bright yellow “beast” that he had thought completely destroyed as it spewed smoke was...
Woooooooong!
“Lord Nemo! Over here!”
“Waaaah! It’s really big!”
“...”
It had returned to a clean and pristine state, without even a trace of the bloodstains from the soldiers killed by “that thing.”
“...Ah.”
As he thought about that, Vicente’s face grew slightly gloomy. Just then, Mr. Hewett the lawyer, who happened to be passing by, saw him, blinked, and sidled over.
“Good morning, Your Excellency Governor González. You look troubled. It seems something is weighing on your mind?”
“Good morning, Mr. Hewett. You have seen right through me. My heart is full of concern.”
“What is the matter?”
“Well... my men...”
At that, Mr. Hewett’s face, too, was tinged with a little sorrow.
‘Ah, he’s blaming himself because his men died because of him.’
“...Please do not blame yourself so much. The battle of the other day was not Your Excellency’s fault. The deaths of the men under your command were no one’s fault.”
“...Hm? Ah, of course not. Why would that be my fault? Who could have known Lord Nemo would be here?”
“...?”
“...?”
Of course, if they had been ordinary people, they might have fallen into despair or suffered under unbearable guilt, just as Mr. Hewett had expected. If Vicente had been that weak a man, that is.
However, Vicente González, governor of Santa Elena of the great Spanish Empire, which ruled the West Indies, the Philippines, and the Low Countries, was not a man who suffered over such “trivial” matters.
“Suffering on earth is but a fleeting thing, and eternity belongs only to the Lord. If they go to heaven, what does it matter whether they died in battle or choked to death while eating gazpacho (a cold soup from Andalusia)?”
“...I see.”
Above all, he was a devout sixteenth-century Catholic.
“...If it is not rude of me, then may I ask why you were grieving?”
“Well, ahem, it is nothing else but this. Our soldiers fought against Lord Nemo, an angel, did they not?”
“Uh... They did, yes?”
“Then does that not mean they will be unable to go to heaven? Those who survived somehow gained a chance to repent, but they did not. How could that not be a sorrowful thing?”
“...Hm.”
Now that he heard it, that was true.
Mr. Hewett pondered for a moment, then answered Vicente.
“Do not worry. They, too, should be able to go to heaven.”
“...Is that so?”
“Of course. It was, after all, a sin committed in ignorance, was it not? How heavy could a sin be if one committed it without knowing it was a sin? If they, too, were devout, there is a strong chance they were saved.”
“Ah-ha.”
Vicente beamed at those words.
Problem solved!
“Thank you, Mr. Hewett!”
“Not at all, Your Excellency Governor González! Have a fine day!”
“Hahahaha!”
“Hahahaha!”
Vicente began running again. The matter of the soldiers, which had already been trivial to begin with, was swept clean from his mind.
Mr. Hewett, too, despite the fact that he himself had played a part in killing those soldiers, felt no particular guilt and gave Vicente a warm smile.
Whether they would be saved or not had been determined from the beginning anyway, so what did it matter?
Yes. Above all, Mr. Hewett was a devout sixteenth-century Calvinist.
Just as those two very devout and slightly deranged men were about to begin a pleasant day, Vicente, with a clear head now washed clean of every worry, began to think.
‘Let’s see... Somehow, I must seize our ships and bring them to Lord Nemo.’
Come to think of it, the four ships he had brought with him were still anchored off the western shore of Croatoan Island. There were quite a few sailors waiting there as well.
If he handled this poorly, some strange report might reach the colonial authorities and put this colony in danger.
Slightly tense, his mustache twitching, Vicente fell deep into thought.
For the glory of the great Lord Nemo and this Croatoan colony.
For his “true faith,”
“...Aha!”
And at last, a good idea came to him.
***
Two galleons and two small pataches (a type of small vessel), four ships in all, lay quietly at anchor off the western sandy beach of Croatoan Island.
Each time the salty ripples slapped against the flanks of the warships mounted with dozens of cannons, the sailors felt an unbearable boredom and unease.
They wanted to break this silence. Even if it meant firing those cannons until they burst.
Their comrades who had gone out scouting had not returned.
If this island had been tremendously large, they would have understood. But had the governor not confidently declared that two days would be enough to search this tiny little island?
And yet more than six days had already passed... before they knew it, they had even spent Christmas aboard the anchored ships.
In that case, there was only one answer.
“...Aren’t they all dead?”
At someone’s words, everyone flinched as if startled and made him shut his mouth.
However, not a single person denied it.
Whether they had encountered hostile Indios or been wiped out by the soldiers of a powerful English colony, they were surely all dead.
However, if those here left without any prior orders before the governor returned, it would be treason. At the very least, they had to show enough sincerity to try to track their whereabouts.
“So... who wants to go?”
“...”
“...”
Of course, there was no one who wanted to go into the depths of this ominous island of death.
Just as they were all watching one another’s faces and glancing toward the shaded interior of Croatoan Island’s forest...
“Uh... uhh?”
“What is it, Hosea?”
“Uhh? Th-there...! Over there!”
At one sailor’s shout, everyone rushed to the railing and looked toward the island.
Then several very small, very... very faint human figures were gradually drawing closer.
Seeing that they were wearing proper clothes, they were not Indios, at least.
And seeing that they were waving both arms and jumping up and down at the sight of the ship, they did not seem to be anyone hostile either.
In that case...!
“They’re back! That’s Pedro over there!”
“Hurry and lower the rope ladder!”
“What? Why are there only five of them?”
“I said lower the rope ladder first!”
Once the long silence and boredom were broken, the sailors excitedly lowered the ladder. Then they waited for their five comrades, who had waded through the splashing water, to deliver some news.
Thud.
And when the five comrades climbed up onto the deck of the galleon, everyone’s expressions stiffened.
Covered in blood and wearing clothes torn all over, they looked more like beggars than sailors.
“Wh-what happened? What about the others...?”
When someone gathered the courage to ask, one of the five immediately answered.
“This... fuck. Th-there were no Englishmen here. No Englishmen, no colony, nothing at all!”
“Then why do you look like...”
“Why do you think! Use your head!”
“...”
“...”
One of the five survivors finally burst into tears, while the rest sagged weakly. Only one man shouted at the top of his lungs, and everyone focused on his story.
“Th-the Indios appeared, shot poisoned arrows, and ran away. At first... it seemed like nothing.
But then, one by one, people started dropping, and soon they were coughing up blood and dying. The people who touched that blood ended up the same way. In the end, we’re the only ones who survived.”
“Is-is it a plague?”
“Whether it’s a plague or poison doesn’t matter. In any case, we have to get out of this hell at once—
Uurk.”
“Bleeergh!”
“Uwoooooogh!”
All at once, the five began vomiting blood and collapsing.
At that, the sailors watching them turned deathly pale.
While roaming the Americas, how many comrades had they seen die after prattling nonsense like, “Well, I can endure this much somehow! It must be nothing!”?
A minor itch, a minor wound, a minor rash had all soon led to death.
They were experienced explorers of the Spanish Empire, and experienced sailors.
They knew far better than those uncivilized Englishmen what they had to do at a time like this.
“A-aaaaagh! Hurry, set sail!”
First, abandon those who are going to die.
“Hey, you bastard! How are we supposed to get a galleon moving with just us?”
“Then switch to the pataches right now!”
And so the remaining sailors fled from the survivors. No matter how desperately the five begged and crawled after them, they pretended not to see and did not even look back.
But they were trained soldiers of Spain. They would not leave behind ships that might fall into enemy hands.
Gathering what scant manpower they had, they took the two pataches out from the shore and then...
Boom! Kaboom!
They sank one of the galleons.
They left the other one behind. It was, after all, a ship with their comrades aboard...
And if the English seized that ship, they would be able to taste the hell of a plague.
It was indeed the meticulousness befitting explorers of great Spain.
And so, the two pataches carrying the Spaniards leisurely sailed away beyond the horizon.
“...Your acting was splendid, men. It is a pity only one ship remains, but then, they are men I trained myself, so I suppose it cannot be helped.”
“We apologize, Your Excellency.”
“Not at all. Then, shall we go?”
Vicente González smiled arrogantly as he looked out at that beautiful warship. Proudly stroking his mustache.
“...We must bring blessed news to our new liege.”
***
“It is an excellent vessel armed with thirty-two cannons! It seems we can bring over several more cannons from the destroyed ship as well!
With this, this colony will be able to respond effectively to any threat!”
Well... I suppose that would be true.
With three hundred residents, one sizable warship, and dozens of cannons, this was no longer a level that Spain could easily touch unless they were truly determined.
“What do you think, Lord Nemo? Is it not truly magnificent? It is as though fate itself is leading this colony to success!”
...But why are you happy about that?
Until just a few days ago, you were the governor of a Spanish colony, weren’t you?
“That’s right, Mr. González! It really is amazing!”
“Haha, it is nothing, Mrs. Dare.”
“You have made a truly great contribution to this settlement, Your Excellency.”
“Not at all, Mr. Hewett. I am merely delighted to be able to take part in this glorious journey.”
And why are all of you accepting this without any suspicion?
Did some kind of, uh, strange bond form between you?
Did the spectators of “Nemo-Nemo’s arm-cutting-and-regenerating show” build camaraderie or something?
Manteo was shedding tears of emotion in the corner, and the others were also rejoicing and applauding.
...In any case.
With this and that discussed, the meeting continued.
“How about constructing a coastal battery?”
“...A coastal battery.”
“Yes, Lord Nemo. The threats that will befall this colony in the future will not end with us. Surely, if word spreads that this colony is growing, other powers will do everything they can to threaten it.”
Right. So you do know you were a threat.
“That is why I suggest we take some of the cannons from our ship and place them along the coast! If we keep watch over the coast that way and build a fort while we are at it, no one will be able to invade this holy land!”
“Ah, hallelujah!”
“...Is that so?”
“Yes. While we are at it, it would be good to lay down harbor facilities and a road leading to the coast. After all, we now have a ship, do we not? There will be many uses for it.”
“That’s right! There is still cargo left on Roanoke Island that we were unable to bring over!”
“Come to think of it, the people who split off from our colony were also in Chesapeake Bay. If we are to find them and bring them back, we will need a ship.”
“Hm...”
At some point, everyone was looking at me.
As if waiting for my final approval.
‘...This is a lot of pressure.’
For now, I nodded.
Wiiiiiiing!
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
And so construction of the harbor and coastal battery began.
“Now! Now! This way! Move it this way!”
Unfortunately, we could not use PC panels as the main material. Though PC panels were light and an invincible material that could even deflect bullets, they had one weakness.
They were flame-retardant, but they did burn in the end.
...It seemed they were a material that had to be used in limited amounts when building a fortress. Especially if it was not equipped with firefighting facilities like my house.
“Bring more mortar here!”
“Roughly... should we put the embrasure here?”
In the end, we used a mix of red brick and stone. The PC panels were used as auxiliary materials.
“What do you think, Lord Nemo? It is the first coastal battery built on this island!”
“Our tribesmen also lent their strength!”
The sight of the red structure with transparent walls standing here and there was...
Quite a spectacle in its own way.