The morning sun was already warming the red earth of the mocambo when Carlos woke up. After a refreshing lemongrass tea, he set off on his daily routine: checking the progress on the new town hall and the roads. The air, thick with construction dust and the rhythmic sound of hammers and chisels, guided his way. The town hall, a masonry structure beginning to dominate the clearing, was almost ready; he calculated that if work continued at the current pace, it would be finished before the end of the year.

  The roads, meanwhile, were progressing by leaps and bounds. The work was less technical and more manual, and the solution had been simple: more workers. Productivity had increased noticeably. Soon, all the paths in the settlement would be made of smooth, firm concrete, flanked by wide sidewalks where ipê trees already promised generous shade for the workers who incessantly came and went, their steps echoing against the hard ground.

  The next ambitious step would be to build a road to the meeting point with the merchants. The current path, a winding, narrow trail through the dense forest, was inadequate for transporting large quantities of goods. The smell of damp earth and rotting vegetation was constant on that trail, an obstacle that needed to be overcome, as the settlement's production kept growing. The textile factory itself had to be expanded – the sound of wood and the constant hum of the new machines, fabricated incessantly by the carpenter and Nia's workshop, was the soundtrack of progress. The demand for clothes seemed insatiable.

  "Come to think of it, they never stop buying clothes," Carlos thought quietly, his eyes scanning the movement of the workers. "Are they exporting them outside of Brazil? I think I'll ask the Popess that when she comes here."

  After meticulously inspecting each construction site, feeling the heat of the fresh cement and watching the sweat stream down the men's backs, Carlos headed to Nia's workshop. There, the air smelled of hot oil and metal shavings. Nia was cheerfully working on the steam engine that would power the future steel converter, her agile hands moving with a precision Carlos noted had increased considerably. She was a talented craftswoman rapidly transforming into an exceptional engineer.

  With his morning inspection complete, Carlos went to have lunch at one of the restaurants springing up in the settlement. The place was a hubbub of voices and the tempting smell of home-cooked food. Several workers, many wearing new locally produced cotton clothes, ate and chatted animatedly, creating an atmosphere of a vibrant community. As he savored his meal, a guard approached his table.

  "Chief, the Popess has arrived at the meeting point and wishes to see you!"

  Without wasting time, Carlos stood up, leaving the rest of his meal behind, and followed the guard.

  ***

  Under the relentless midday sun, Popess Paula watched the feverish activity of the meeting point from her carriage. The air shimmered with heat, carrying the smell of dust, horses, and new fabric. An endless line of carts waited, while men and women from the quilombo didn't stop bringing bundles of clothes to fill them. It was a constant river of production.

  How are they able to make so many clothes...? she thought, her analytical mind searching for logic. It's not possible... unless they are using the knowledge from the divine book! I'm sure the one responsible for this must be Carlos.

  Leaning against the carriage outside, panting and with his face shining with sweat, was Francisco.

  "I can't believe you came running to use me as a guide as soon as I returned to the city, and after I even gave you a divine book for free!" he grumbled, trying to catch his breath.

  The Popess opened the carriage door before speaking, her voice a controlled tone:

  "I needed a guide who knew the way. Besides, it was very bold of you to want to use me for your personal benefit and then simply disappear from the city. You did return with a divine book, but it's about how to harvest and plant grapes and make wine... It's useless to me."

  No sooner had she finished speaking than the portly merchant quickly slipped into the carriage and settled on the leather seat, as if he were the owner.

  "Your Holiness knows well that the agreement benefits you too," retorted Francisco, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. "Must I remind you that both I and my colleague religiously pay the church taxes. Besides, it's not my fault the content of the divine books is random."

  Paula smiled, but a flicker of irritation was visible in the corners of her eyes.

  "I am very grateful for that, but paying taxes is simply your obligation. Furthermore, this carriage is for my exclusive use."

  Francisco, still fanning himself, sketched a sly smile.

  "I thought Your Holiness was a humble person, with a giant heart and empathy the size of an ocean, capable of offering a little shade to a simple, tired merchant."

  At that moment, Father Ant?nio, who was also in the carriage, couldn't contain a laugh. His cordial laugh reminded the two that they weren't alone.

  "Ha ha ha, who knew Your Holiness had this side. You two really seem like good friends."

  A rare blush rose to the Popess's cheeks, leaving her momentarily embarrassed – a sight no faithful had ever witnessed. Francisco also seemed uncomfortable, until, after a pause, he commented:

  "Carlos is taking his time, isn't he?"

  Regaining her composure, Paula spoke, addressing Ant?nio:

  "Yes, and speaking of which, Ant?nio, I hope he accepts you as the priest of the quilombo. We can build a church here. Since you already know him, I think it will be easy."

  Francisco shook his head skeptically.

  "From what I've seen, they need to consult their king before decisions like that. And the Specter seems like a very cautious person to me. Holy One, you are naive when it comes to politics. They will realize you are trying to place a spy within the quilombo."

  Paula responded with a mischievous smile:

  "A spy who recently learned to use the gem of alteration, and who can vaccinate them against smallpox. Moreover, many black people here already believe in Our Lord. Not to mention that, until now, I've only helped them, risking creating a conflict with Portugal."

  The two were about to start another argument when Ant?nio spotted Carlos arriving, accompanied by guards and by a woman he recognized.

  "In that case, why don't we ask the person directly and see what his answer will be?"

  The two looked outside and saw, in the distance, the entourage approaching. Upon spotting Carlos, the Popess was visibly surprised.

  "Francisco, why didn't you tell me he was so young? I thought he was an old wise man!"

  The merchant had to hold back a guffaw.

  "With all due respect, Your Holiness, what kind of elderly man does somersaults and fights against overseers?"

  Paula was a little embarrassed.

  "I thought he was a... very athletic elderly man..."

  Both Francisco and Ant?nio laughed openly, leaving the Popess furious. She, however, contained her anger and said with dignity:

  "Let's get down. They are almost here."

  Quickly, she took a pair of glasses from a hidden pocket and put them on. The glasses, made with a gem of vision, allowed her to see the magical energy emanating from objects and people. And then she saw: Carlos was enveloped by a sinister purple aura, identical to the one emanating from the artifacts considered diabolical. Her heart raced, and a flood of questions invaded her mind, but she controlled herself.

  With a quick yet graceful movement, Popess Paula covered her head with a transparent veil and descended from the carriage. Outside, her posture was one of serene and unshakable authority – a completely different person.

  Ant?nio descended next, and Francisco followed him, climbing down awkwardly. Outside, church guards, dressed in simple clothes that hid who knows how many magical gems, formed a discreet but alert guard.

  After descending, Paula addressed Carlos and his group with calculated charm and calm.

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  "Good afternoon, sir. It's an honor to meet the man behind the letters. You have been helping me immensely with various issues."

  Carlos smiled and extended his hand.

  "The pleasure is all mine to meet the much-talked-about and famous Holy Popess. Your cooperation is breathing new life into my settlement."

  Carlos's gesture made the church guards' eyes spark with suspicion, but the Popess ignored it and shook his hand firmly.

  "As I said in the letter, this cooperation has been beneficial for me too. Therefore, I wish to expand it."

  The Popess noticed the attentive gaze of the scarred man observing her. She also noticed a figure hidden in the shadows.

  This must be the Specter... But there's someone else invisible near him. His skill is formidable; I can barely distinguish his outlines... They are being very cautious...

  Carlos, after greeting the Popess, turned his gaze to Francisco.

  "Good to see you here. I have several requests for specific items and I'm willing to pay extra for them."

  Francisco sketched a merchant's smile.

  "It's always a pleasure to do business with you."

  The merchant seemed transformed in front of the Specter, no longer showing the paralyzing fear of before.

  Tassi, who was next to Carlos, approached the church group, her face lit by a smile.

  "Father! I thought I'd never see you again."

  The priest smiled upon seeing her. Tassi was unrecognizable compared to the skeletal form she had at the sugar mill. Her face was filled out, her eyes shone with life, and she wore a dress of good quality fabric.

  "Me too, my child. It seems God has other plans for us."

  Tassi smiled respectfully. She didn't share the same faith, but she felt deep gratitude for the priest who had helped her so much in the past.

  "You must be exhausted from the trip. Why don't we sit and talk more comfortably?" suggested Carlos.

  After his words, Tassi, moving carefully so as not to alarm the visitors, activated her bracelets. With a slight tremor in the earth, benches and a robust table emerged from the ground, in the refreshing shade of a nearby tree.

  "I also brought a specialty from the Armadillo Settlement: ice cream. I think you'll love it." Carlos made a signal, and a guard came forward carrying a large clay pot.

  The Popess, although eager to discuss business, recognized that it would be rude to refuse the hospitality.

  "But of course!" she replied, with a polished smile.

  The small group headed to the table. Paula, discreetly, used her glasses to examine the pot for any dangerous magic. Everything seemed safe, but caution prevented her from eating anything offered. Sitting down, she cast a meaningful glance at Francisco, who immediately understood the message.

  "Sir Carlos, I'm very interested in this so-called specialty..." said the merchant, rubbing his hands. "Especially if I can sell it in the future."

  Carlos answered evasively:

  "Perhaps in the future..."

  The guard placed the pot on the table, along with bowls and spoons. Carlos served Francisco first. The creamy, icy ice cream quickly became the settlement leader's best persuasion tool. The merchant, initially skeptical, changed his mind upon feeling the icy relief against the heat. He began to eat with visible delight.

  Ant?nio, seeing Francisco's pleasure, also allowed himself to be served. The Popess, however, remained focused.

  "Sir Carlos, I would like to build a church in your settlement. There are many faithful without a place to pray, and Father Ant?nio would be perfect to lead it, since you and Tassi know him."

  Carlos kept his smile.

  "Of course!"

  The answer came so easily that it surprised the Popess.

  Just like that, so simple? Doesn't he realize I'm placing a spy?

  Her excitement, however, was interrupted.

  "But I have one condition," Carlos continued, taking a bowl of ice cream for himself. "I want to separate the church's religious function from its healing function."

  Paula was confused.

  "That's impossible. I cannot reveal the church's healing secrets."

  "My apologies for the lack of clarity," Carlos explained. "I want the faithful to attend church to pray. To receive treatments and healing, they should go to a hospital. Don't worry, for healing using the gem of alteration, the church members will do it, but the hospital will be managed by members of the settlement, and the healing artifacts will remain under your control."

  That's rather reasonable... but why separate? thought Paula, the confusion still evident on her face.

  Noticing her hesitation, Carlos elaborated:

  "In the quilombo, people of various beliefs and backgrounds live. I want everyone to feel welcome to seek healing, regardless of their faith. Furthermore, in the hospital, I can include workers not affiliated with the church to assist with care..."

  Carlos spent some time detailing the hospital's operation. Paula listened attentively, but the hot wind and the ice cream slowly melting beside her became increasingly tempting. Giving in, she took a small portion. The sweet, creamy, cold flavor was a revelation, and she found herself savoring it with genuine pleasure. As she ate, she thought about what had been said.

  He only mentioned the Gem of Alteration, meaning the members of the quilombo will be the ones using the healing gem. Furthermore, only Ant?nio and I can use the Gem of Alteration in Brazil. The knowledge that adepts of the Gem of Alteration are very rare is quite common, meaning they just want as few church members as possible to work at the hospital.

  "I understand the hospital proposal and I see no problems," she said, finally. "However, I feel I'm at a disadvantage in this agreement. Recently, Francisco, with my intermediation, established a channel to export your clothes to other Holy Cities. Therefore, I would like a bonus. Perhaps a book about microorganisms?"

  Carlos sighed.

  "Unfortunately, I do not possess any book on the subject, so I cannot share much."

  The answer surprised Paula, and a theory began to form in her mind.

  Then, how does he know about microorganisms? Where did he learn? Unless...

  "Don't tell me you have the same origin as the Divine Books!?" she exclaimed, her eyes widening.

  The question echoed in the air, leaving everyone silent. Carlos, open-mouthed, looked at the Specter, who responded with a slight nod.

  "Your Holiness is as intelligent as the rumors say," Carlos confirmed. "Yes, you are correct. I come from the same world where the 'devil's books' originated, but I cannot go into details."

  Despite having considered it, the confirmation shocked Paula.

  "I'd like to attribute it to my genius, but, to be honest, these glasses, made with a gem of vision by one of our best artisans, gave me a crucial clue. They show that you possess the same aura as those artifacts."

  The Specter, who had remained silent, intervened:

  "We acquired a spyglass with a gem of vision recently and saw nothing abnormal about Carlos. How could Your Holiness see?"

  Paula laughed softly.

  "The difference lies in the artisan. The technique of a magical goldsmith from the church cannot be compared to that of a common craftsman. It's not enough to have the gem and the materials; one must master the technique."

  The answer silenced the Specter. The Popess then turned to Carlos, her expression serious.

  "I see... This explains many things. With this information, we can maintain our agreement as it is. I only wish to expand the knowledge exchanged in our letters." Her voice softened, taking on an almost dreamy tone. "You see, I find this world incredible and wonderful. I believe God created it to be unraveled. Therefore, I wish to learn more about His creation. Continue to send me letters and, if possible, answer the questions I will ask. I have so many doubts..."

  It was a better outcome than Carlos had expected.

  "Of course. I will do my best to help you."

  Hearing this, the Popess lifted her veil, revealing an open and enthusiastic smile.

  "Since you can't give me the book, I think I deserve some answers, don't I?"

  Immediately, Paula launched a flood of questions about Carlos's world: if there was a church, magic, diseases, vaccines, microbes. Each answer made her more euphoric, completely transforming her from the austere figure who had descended from the carriage. The entire afternoon passed in those conversations, with Carlos taking care not to reveal crucial secrets – they were his most valuable trump card with that woman.

  "Thank you for clearing up so many of my doubts," she said, finally, with a sigh of satisfaction. She looked at Ant?nio. "I will leave Ant?nio in your care and will send more helpers for the church. The healing artifacts will remain with them, and only with them. And please, do not treat them as intruders."

  "It's good that we've reached an agreement, but I think it would be proper to formalize this on paper."

  It seems they aren't complete barbarians after all.

  "I agree completely with that."

  The two spent another hour discussing the terms of the agreement. When they finished, Carlos extended his hand once more.

  "I accept this agreement with pleasure."

  They shook hands, sealing the pact. The Popess and Francisco got up to leave, but Carlos interrupted:

  "Wait, Mister Merchant. I have some special orders to place."

  Francisco, who had completely forgotten about it, sat down again. The Popess, moved by curiosity, also retook her seat to listen to the conversation.