How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony

And the next day, there was a vote.

Alonso was elected to the position of Archbishop.

Amidst the cheers and enthusiastic atmosphere of the people, Alonso couldn't even refuse the position. He had no choice but to accept this burdensome role.

But...

When he heard that the Archbishop would become Florida's ruler, he couldn't bear it. This had to be refused somehow.

Wasn't this position created at the cost of so much blood?

And yet, for me, who did nothing, to hold this position. Especially since I am Spanish.

It's absurd.

With these thoughts, he had sent several messages to the Virginia side until today.

There was no reply.

"..."

"Since we've met like this, let's walk to the destination together. We can talk."

Until today.

The soldiers who had been uncomfortably escorting Alonso until just now bowed their heads and stepped back when he encountered this person.

Thus, the two walked in an awkward and solemn atmosphere.

Unlike "Him" who appeared relatively comfortable, Alonso couldn't even look at the person beside him. Because looking at him reminded him of that day.

The shock of that day.

The overwhelming feeling of that day.

"...I am a person who has done nothing. I want to resign."

Still, what needed to be said had to be said.

Alonso struggled to open his mouth. And once he did, words flowed surprisingly freely.

"All I've done is help a few slaves escape, show a slightly kind attitude, and almost get beaten to death by vigilantes. And when I woke up, the Africans of this land had liberated themselves."

At these words, "He" briefly turned to look at Alonso...

"I see."

Was all he said in response.

Feeling somehow frustrated by this calm reply, Alonso continued:

"I am nothing. It was others who fought against the slave owners, others who helped the most slaves escape, and others who distinguished themselves in the recent battle. I..."

"And it was you who was elected in the election."

"..."

"It seems people trust you. That's a good thing. Be a trusted Archbishop. It's a good quality for a leader."

That's what the "Nameless One" said.

Alonso couldn't help but refute that. So he said:

"No. It's not me people trust most."

"That's already proven by the vote..."

"...Weren't you ineligible for the vote?"

"..."

"That's right. The one people trust most is you."

Only then did "He" turn to Alonso with a surprised expression. Alonso spoke with an earnest voice:

"I didn't fight against the slave owners. But you did. And it was also you who helped the most slaves escape. Everyone knows you turned the tide in the recent battle."

Silence.

"Rather, you should rule this Florida. Nameless One, there is no better candidate than you."

In Alonso's view, that was the most reasonable solution.

Land ruled by an ange... messenger.

Land ruled by the most beloved, trusted, and respected person. Isn't that what's already happening in Virginia to the north?

No, there's a reason why it must be him.

The most decisive reason.

"Isn't this liberation also due to you? This victory is all your achievement..."

And then.

"No."

Alonso was taken aback when "He" interrupted his words for the first time, stopping mid-sentence with his mouth open. They paused walking briefly, and "He" looked at Alonso... then turned his head again and continued walking.

"It is not my achievement."

What... does that mean?

"Yes, of course, you said the outcome was in our hands. That we should believe in ourselves. But if you hadn't shown that miracle then and there, could we have won?"

At those words, "He" walking ahead stopped again. As Alonso tried to approach "His" side, "He" turned around to face Alonso directly and said:

"I."

"..."

"Why was I there at that time and place?"

"...What did you just say?"

"Didn't you say it? That the miracle I performed ended the battle. Then what made me be there? Who called me to that place?"

"That's..."

Well...

"I came only after the slave uprising had already liberated themselves."

"..."

"It was those who chose to resist on their own that called me there. People who wanted to free themselves led me to that place."

"His" face remained calm, but there was strength in his voice.

A strength that seemed to dominate this space.

As Alonso couldn't respond and just opened and closed his mouth... "He" suddenly smiled and started walking again. Alonso, who had been standing in a daze, hurriedly followed "Him," and the conversation continued.

"I was merely a catalyst and a conclusion."

His voice was gentle. Like a teacher instructing a child.

"Just like you."

"Yes. You may have done nothing. You were just a catalyst, and it was the slaves themselves who actually rose up. It will be the same in the future. They will be the ones who actually do things. Even if you become Archbishop."

"..."

"..."

"So, accept it."

Before they knew it, they had reached the center of San Agustin. People gathered, murmuring.

"You are not becoming the ruler of Florida's people.

You are once again becoming a catalyst for Florida's people."

Saying this, "He" raised his head and waved to the gathered spectators. As cheers erupted, "He" encouraged Alonso to wave as well.

He too waved his hand.

"That's enough. You don't need to be the savior leading Florida's people to wealth and glory. If it's burdensome, let them do it."

"..."

They had now reached the door. As "He" pushed the door open with both hands, many people were gathered inside the cathedral.

Amidst the cheers of many people.

Alonso looked up at "Him."

He was smiling. It was a smile gentle enough to ease the heart, and intense enough to never be forgotten.

Alonso knelt before that smile.

And swore.

I... as the Archbishop of Florida and representative of Florida's people, swear allegiance to you.

I... as the Archbishop of Florida, will dedicate myself to Florida's people during my term.

I...

...

...

Thus, six months passed.

It became the autumn of 1612.

Alonso was busy going around, taking on the role of head of government for the first time in his life.

"Are there this many stacks of documents?"

"Yes. Well, it's daily life in Virginia."

He wasn't surprised by the amount of work. Rather, the method of handling affairs passed orally in a haphazard manner was less efficient than using these stacks of documents.

Alonso was surprised purely by the sheer quantity of paper itself. He could hardly imagine where so much paper was coming from.

Not just paper, but ink and various everyday miscellaneous items seemed somehow more abundant.

And they were indeed more abundant.

The products of Virginia's continuously developing industry were flowing freely into Florida at low prices.

Considering transportation costs, this was much more profitable than exporting across the Atlantic. With a new market emerging very close by, many industrial shackles of Virginia were being released.

Anyway, Alonso, unaware of such circumstances, continued to organize and process the documents, constantly thinking.

And.

"This won't do..."

He concluded.

"I need to negotiate with Virginia."