While Cortés and Comando were deep in conversation, two Spanish soldiers brought Jeromino inside.
Cortés looked at him calmly.
"Come in, Jeromino."
Jeromino fell to his knees.
"Please, Cortés… let me go. If the Mayans find out who I am, they'll kill me. I've already betrayed Guerrero—"
"Relax… relax," Cortés interrupted with a faint smile. "Once the job I gave you is done, you're free to leave. By next month."
Comando narrowed his eyes.
"So this is the man who helped you and Landa… You sent him too?"
"Yes," Cortés replied simply.
"Why, Cortés? Why are you doing all this? I don't understand."
"There's a reason for everything, Comando. If we want the Mayans to stop resisting us, there is only one way—
We must convert them to our religion."
"Do you really think that will work? Will they abandon their faith so easily?"
"I trust Landa completely," Cortés said firmly. "He will take care of this."
Just then, loud arguments erupted outside. Spanish officials were shouting. Hearing the commotion, Cortés stepped out.
"What is the matter, my dear friends? Why such a crowd?"
The officials burst out angrily.
"Cortés, we didn't bring Landa here to idle around! Instead of doing his duty, he's doing all kinds of unnecessary things."
"This will not work, Cortés. Send him back to Spain immediately!"
Cortés calmly explained his plan to the furious officials.
He had immense faith in Landa—and in truth, he had no other option. Continuous warfare had drained Spain's economy. Cortés was not prepared for another full-scale war with the Mayans.
So he chose Landa's path—the path of peace.
Landa firmly believed:
"What authority cannot achieve, love can."
Cortés decided that following Landa's way was the wisest move for now.
Landa promised him,
"Give me complete freedom. I will finish the task I came here for."
Trusting him, Cortés instructed Comando and the officials not to interfere and returned to his tent.
Landa had already completed half his mission. To finish the rest, he began learning the Mayan language and its script.
Once he gained fluency, his true intentions slowly began to surface.
He preached Christianity to the Mayans. Because of the respect they had for him, the Mayans listened carefully.
Teachings like "Evil must be overcome with good,"
"Revenge is never the solution,"
"Forgiveness and humanity alone can bring peace" fascinated them.
Yet, the Mayans never considered abandoning their own religion. They merely developed a favorable opinion of Christianity.
One Sunday night, Mayan women arrived at the church with veils over their heads. Kneeling, they prayed:
"Hail Mary, full of grace, blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus."
Landa watched with immense joy.
Soon, Mayan men joined the prayer.
The following Sunday, the Mayans came early—but left midway, only to return again for prayer. Landa noticed.
The next Sunday, they left nearly ten minutes before the prayer ended.
At first, Landa ignored it. Soon, suspicion crept in.
On Sunday night, July 27, Landa decided to follow them.
After praying to Mother Mary, the Mayans exited through the back entrance. Landa followed silently.
The path was dark—filled with rocks, thick trees, and uneven ground. It was difficult to keep up, yet Landa hid behind trees, moving cautiously.
They reached a hidden Mayan temple, concealed deep within the forest.
Landa froze.
From behind a rock, he saw 320 Mayans standing in a circle inside the temple.
Their ancient rituals were underway. With deep devotion, they gazed at the statue of their god—"The First Father."
The Mayan priest raised his hand toward the idol. Instantly, all the Mayans raised their hands in unison.
They prayed:
"Grant us your blessing so that we may drive the Spaniards from this land."
Landa understood every word.
The information reached the Spanish military camp immediately.
The Spanish Vice-Governor ordered cannons to be fired toward the temple without delay.
Unaware of what was coming, the Mayans continued their worship.
1:00 AM
As the Mayans bowed at the feet of the First Father, cannon shells tore through the temple walls.
Before they could react or escape, the cannons reduced the entire temple to rubble.
All 320 Mayans were buried alive—entombed within their own sacred shrine.
The Spanish army began a ruthless hunt for Mayan books.
Cortés had taught them:
"If you wish to destroy a civilization, destroy its knowledge."
Following his command, they seized books on Mayan science, mathematics, astronomy, and agriculture.
Books hidden in caves and temples were dragged out in bundles—
Over 10,000 manuscripts.
On the Vice-Governor's orders, they were piled in an open field and burned together.
As their ancestors' priceless knowledge turned to ash before their eyes, the Mayans could do nothing. They fled, clutching their lives.
The great libraries of Mayan wisdom burned into black smoke—
like a massive torch blazing in the heart of the Mexican forest.
The Vice-Governor laughed victoriously, looking at the sky.
The Spanish soldiers clapped and laughed along.
Spain deployed its entire army into Mayan territory and thoroughly searched Caracol, completing their mission of destruction.
Yet, four sacred books survived:
The Madrid Codex
The Dresden Codex
The Paris Codex
The Grolier Codex
Crafted from treated deer skin and folded like a fan.
From the Calandria Cave, Cheran witnessed everything.
When he saw Spanish soldiers attacking his people, his rage overflowed. Their laughter pushed his fury beyond control.
Gripping the knife from his sheath, Cheran stepped down the mountain.
Suddenly—Pachama collapsed.
Cheran caught her instantly, splashed water on her face. She slowly regained consciousness.
As he helped her stand, he felt her pulse—
It was beating for two lives.
Cheran now had to live.
Not for one life—
but for two.