Manuel lay in a daze, fanning himself with a particularly flat piece of wood. Around him, there were other men who were lounging around. Some of them were drinking, others were gambling with a set of dice. None of them were particularly alert despite being in a foreign land. They had been here long enough that they knew the natives wouldn’t attack them. Even if they were holding some human sacrifices on top of that pyramid over yonder, white men were never the target of sacrifices. At first, the natives thought they were gods and treated them as such. Why would they sacrifice a god to a god? But after a few things happened and a lot of natives died under the white men’s hands, that reason changed. The white men were too sinister and cowardly, making them less appealing sacrifices than a fish. Right when Manuel was about to drift off into slumber, a loud clanging sound woke him up. Someone was knocking on the walls with a sword.

“There’s a dragon! Everyone, get up! Up! We’re going to slay a dragon! Wear your armor, equip your swords, load your muskets!” The captain of the expedition barged into the barracks. He looked around and picked the closest man he found who was lounging around, Manuel. Before Manuel could say anything, the captain walked up to him and slapped him with the flat part of his sword. “This is an order from your captain! Get up!”

Manuel clutched his stinging cheek and stood up, in even more of a daze than earlier. A dragon? What the heck happened at the natives’ sacrificial ritual? Did they feed his captain some mushrooms that confused his mind? “Captain Cortés, what did you say we were hunting?”

Along with an answer, Manuel was greeted by the flashing of his captain’s sword. It struck his other cheek, dazing him even further. “A dragon! We’re hunting a dragon! I know none of you are soldiers, but what did you guys come here for? For gold, glory, and God! And a huge pile of glory has appeared in front of us!”

Manuel stood there, holding both his stinging cheeks. It really seemed like his captain had lost it. The natives were sick, and a large majority of them were dying of illnesses. Maybe his captain caught one? These ravings were probably an impeding sign of madness. And madness was usually caused by witches. Did his captain turn into a witch? No, witches weren’t common where he was from. Before Manuel could think some more, there was another flash, and the captain’s sword once again struck his head.

“What are you standing around for!? Didn’t I tell you to wear your armor!?”

“Captain Cortés!” Manuel said with tears in his eyes. “My family was too poor to send me here with armor! The only weapon they gave me was this knife!” He turned to his side, revealing the cleaver hanging from his waist. It was an ordinary cleaver, one that could be found at any butcher. Instead of receiving an answer, he received another blow to the head.

“Then ready the horses!”

Captain! If my family couldn’t afford a sword, what makes you think they could afford a horse? Manuel wanted to say his thoughts out loud, but he knew the only response he would get was another lashing. He ran out of the barracks and towards the pastures where the natives let their horses graze. At least, this way, he could pretend to be doing something. It didn’t take long for the rest of the men to get ready. They came to the pastures and fetched their horses, putting on saddles before getting on top.

Manuel looked on with envy as his companions rode out and into formation. Only he and a few other men were horseless. While watching the sight of the men assembling, Manuel furrowed his brow. His head was still throbbing. What exactly had their captain called them out to do? Kill a dragon? Too bad he didn’t have a horse, or he could participate in killing a dragon. …A dragon? The creatures from the legends that were as tall as houses and could breathe fire?

“Look over there, men! It’s the dragon!”

Manuel followed his captain’s voice and looked off into the distance. He was a bit short, so he couldn’t see too well. He climbed onto the fence of the pasture to get a better look at the horizon. Next to the pyramid that the natives used to sacrifice things, there was something blue beside it. It looked like it had wings. That was a living creature? It was huge! And his captain wanted to kill it? Was he insane?

“Don’t be scared, men!” Captain Cortés said. “Sigurd once slew a dragon with a sword by himself! There are over five hundred of us, and all of us have swords. Not only do we have swords, but we also have guns! Our names will be recorded down in history as dragon slayers! We’ll bathe in its blood and became superhumans with impenetrable skin. Glory awaits us! God watches over us!”

“C-Captain!” Manuel said. He didn’t want to ruin the mood his captain had set, but he was really concerned! “It’s so far away. By the time you get there, it’ll already be dead before those of us without horses arrive.” His voice got smaller and smaller with every word. The captain had to strain his ears to hear the rest of it.

“Don’t worry,” Captain Cortés said. “Other than the people who actually slay the dragon, the people who record the event shall be renowned as well. Think about it! Not only is Jesus Christ famous, but who hasn’t heard of John and Matthew when reciting the deeds of Christ? Your duty is to watch and record the first moments of the New World Dragon Slayers!”

Manuel nodded. His captain made a lot of sense! That’s why he was the captain. However, there was just one problem. “But Captain, I can’t read or write!”

Captain Cortés nearly bit his tongue. Before he could say anything, someone said, “Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll switch with him. He can charge at the creature that’s as large as a house, and I’ll write down everything from behind.”

Manuel’s eyes lit up. “Really? You’ll really switch with me? Thanks!” As such, Manuel, with his dreams of glory and riches, climbed atop a horse with his trusty cleaver. He was going to slay a dragon.