The aide curled his lips in frustration. "Sir, they already hold that position. The Spanish Empire has even granted them the noble title of cacique. It isn't so easy to undermine their authority."
Carlos sighed, rubbing his temple. "So our only option is to fight them?"
The aide nodded helplessly. "That's right, sir. If you truly want to build a new nation, you must first defeat those indigenous groups who benefited from Spanish rule. There is no other way."
Carlos took a slow, steady breath. For a moment, the distant sounds of Medellín filtered through the open windows—the rhythmic clatter of tools from the workshops below, the faint smell of gunpowder drifting from the armory. Then his eyes lit up.
