The long night stretches endlessly, unknowingly deep. The jungle is serene, with the faint calls of a flock of birds. The campfire slowly dims, people's expressions fluctuate, their thoughts ebbing and flowing, hearts tethered to the Eastern Sea.
Tikalo's eyes lowered, he bowed respectfully, and asked with a smile.
"Priest Tomate, the translator from Cuba, the sea chart to Cuba, and the location of the iron ore... are these three items satisfactory to you?"
At these words, Priest Tomate's eyes flickered, giving Tikalo a deep, thoughtful look.
"Tikalo, you must know how much His Highness values these three things. Why didn't you personally inform His Highness when you were in Water Valley City? His Highness would have certainly rewarded you generously. What you desire, you can ask from His Highness!"
