The midday sun beat down mercilessly as Lapu-Lapu's balangay, a traditional Visayan warship, sliced through the turquoise waters. The rhythmic chanting of the paddlers provided a steady counterpoint to the lapping of waves against the hull. His destination: the island of Cebu, home to Rajah Humabon, the most powerful chieftain in the Visayas.
News of the illness had reached Cebu, and Lapu-Lapu hoped to use this shared concern as a springboard for his proposal. He envisioned a loose confederation of Visayan chiefdoms, a united front against any external threat. Humabon, with his vast resources and strategic location, was the key.As Mactan neared the Cebu coastline, Lapu-Lapu scanned the approaching shore. The sight that greeted him did little to ease his apprehension. A foreign ship, unlike any he had ever seen, dominated the harbor. Its towering masts scraped the sky, and its hull, adorned with strange symbols, seemed to bristle with weapons.Unease gnawed at Lapu-Lapu. He had heard rumors of outsiders, pale-skinned men, from across the vast ocean, but this was the first concrete evidence. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his kris, the traditional Philippine sword strapped to his waist.The landing at Cebu was tense. Humabon's warriors, clad in gleaming armor adorned with feathers, eyed Lapu-Lapu's men with suspicion. The air crackled with silent hostility. Finally, a wiry man, his face etched with experience, emerged from the throng. He introduced himself as Zula, Humabon's chief advisor."Rajah Lapu-Lapu," Zula said, his voice clipped, "Rajah Humabon awaits you."Lapu-Lapu followed Zula through a bustling marketplace; the sights and sounds were a stark contrast to the simpler life on Mactan. Finally, they reached a large, ornately carved structure—Humabon's palace. Inside, the air hung heavy with the scent of incense and unfamiliar spices.Humabon, a man of imposing stature with a thick gold necklace adorning his bare chest, sat on a raised platform. His eyes, narrowed in suspicion, flickered between Lapu-Lapu and the foreign ship bobbing in the harbor."Lapu-Lapu," Humabon rumbled, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, "to what do we owe this unexpected visit?"Lapu-Lapu bowed respectfully. "Rajah Humabon," he began, choosing his words carefully. "We face a common threat: the illness spreading across the islands. We must unite, share resources, and prepare for any unforeseen dangers."Humabon scoffed. "Threats, you say? What threats are greater than those we already face—raiders, rivalries, and the occasional typhoon?"Lapu-Lapu locked eyes with the Cebuan Rajah. "There is a new threat on the horizon, Rajah. Those ships in your harbor." He gestured towards the window.Humabon's expression hardened. "Ah, the foreigners. They call themselves Kastila," he said, spitting out the word with disdain. "They bring promises of trade, and alliances. Perhaps they can be of use."Lapu-Lapu's unease deepened. Humabon seemed more intrigued than wary of the foreigners. He had a sinking feeling that the path to unity would be far more treacherous than he had anticipated.