Chapter 782 A Hit
Alexander was informed of the legend of Tibias's origin as he was given the tour of the temple.
And listening to it, the biggest thing that he wondered was why they did not make the bull simply a cow.
Though he had his guesses.
The first ones to come up with the idea might have felt that giving credit to females would be demeaning.
Or it could be that a divine bull sounded much better than an ordinary cow.
Whatever the reasons were, it was with such distracting thoughts that Alexander had made that proposal to switch the bull statue with his own goddess statue, something which caused a zealous priest to make an attempt on his life.
And it was a very good attempt at that, because given the distance the man was at, the way Alexander was standing very close to the high priest, and most of all, the unexpectedness of it all, managed to catch everyone off guard, including Hemicus and even Alexander.
So as Alexander saw the large dagger descend down from the skies, like a heavenly arrow fired by gods, aimed right at his chest, he sensed a mortifying scent of death he had not in years.
If that strike connected as it was, he knew it would be enough to pierce his bronze cuirass, his chainmail, and his gambeson- to finally bury deep into his flesh, possibly even breaking his ribs to stab right through to his heart.
And even if that worst scenario did not happen, even if the strike missed the critical organ and he did not die immediately, simply the grievous injury he would undoubtedly suffer would almost certainly mean death in the following days.
Alexander had not faced such a mortal challenge in a very long time.
And faced with this predicament, Alexander's first instinct was to dodge, to try and use his footwork to pivot and make the man miss his aim.
Or at the very least try to make it a glancing blow.
But that option was quickly ruled out.
The attacker was too close and gaining ground rapidly, there was simply not enough time to make adequate maneuvers
So given flight was out, Alexander then thought about trying to fight, to block it with his arms, or like before, at least shove had arm away, thus deflecting it to a lesser important area.
But this time, Alexander found himself wanting for room.
He was so close to the high priest that he found that if he were to raise his hand, it would hit the old man and get obstructed.
And by the time he came to these conclusions, precious seconds had already mercilessly ticked by.
Although Alexander's mind was working in hyperdrive, he seemed to draw a blank, as the bells of the grim reaper toiled next to his ears.
When suddenly Alexander's eyes flashed a chilly light.
Instead of fighting or fleeing, he chose a third option.
Abruptly grabbing the old by his shoulder, Alexander summoned every ounce of his strength to pull the man towards him, intending to use him as a human shield.
And thankfully, the wizened man was quite light, thus letting him accomplish this quite fast.
While the attacking priest, seeing the high priest suddenly appear at the corner of his eye and understanding who he was about to hit, instinctively tried to correct his aim,
"Argghhh!"
Thus he missed Alexander's heart, for the last minute hesitation caused the blade to glance off the thick bronze cuirass and instead bury itself into Alexander's fleshy arm, the strong strike cutting into his flesh and even cracking his bone, hence the pained groan.
"Alexander! *Clang*!" Hemicus had been watching the entire thing unfold like it was a horror movie, his body seemingly frozen, his face white with despair.
And by the time he was able to act, blood had been already drawn.
It was Alexander's pained growl and the clear pitter patter of blood that broke the man from his frozen stupor, and upon seeing it, felt a surge of anger like he had felt only a few times before.
"*Slash*"
Stepping forward with feathered steps, he drew his blade at a lightning pace and delivered a very powerful diagonal slash across the attacking priest's chest, instantly drawing a literal fountain of blood, and sending his stumbling backward, as he then fell to the floor on his back, his eyes quickly losing focus.
The man was dead from that one strike.
But for Hemicus, he would not care less what happened to that man.
He was far more concerned about the person he was meant to protect, who by now on one knee, clutching the wound that was bursting forth with blood, the huge weapon still stuck.
Neither he nor Hemicus took it out haphazardly, knowing the very thing that caused the wound was now acting as a stopper.
Things would only get much worse if it was carelessly removed.
*Clang*, *Clang*, Clang*,
As Hemicus rushed to Alexander's aid, the other nearby bodyguards also got the chance to finally react, as drawing their own swords, they formed a defensive ring around their lord, many men deep, while at the same time, they seemed just ready to jump on the six remaining priests, eager to tear them to shreds, first the six and then the rest of the people here.
"Wait!" And it was only Alexander's pained cry that stopped this massacre, as he then commanded, "Capture and detain everyone. And get me somewhere quiet."
Even though Alexander was hurt, he was not incapacitated and still had the state of mind to know that
slaughtering the priests in rage would be a bad idea.
While Lapitus, who similar to Hemicus too had gone pale by the attack, upon hearing Alexander's order, acted the quickest, fiercely grabbing the high priest, and shouting,
"Yes! Quickly get down. Capture them. Don't kill."
Lapitus's first sentence was addressed to the priest, while the second was to the soldier, as it was pretty clear why he was willing to follow Alexander's order with such alacrity-?he wanted to save the priests.
And to do that he personally grabbed the high priest, expertly putting his hands behind the back, while the old man too understood his situation, so he surrendered without the slightest resistance, Seeing which so did the other five.
They got on their knees and lowered their head, while some of the armed men worked to pat them for any weapons and then moved them away from Alexander.
While Alexander was quickly escorted towards the pool since there was clean water there.
And as he was being moved, the man actually thanked his luck.
For only he was aware just how lucky he had been.
Firstly the attacker was grossly inexperienced.
Because if this priest was also a martial artist, he would have noticed that the human shield Alexander was trying to bring in front of him would not be able to get there on time.
Alexander barely managed to get the old high priest to cover his right hand side, while the attack was coming from the left
So if the man had continued his attack as he had been, he would have been able to deliver the fatal blow without any danger to the old man.
But then again, being a clergyman, it would have been weird for the man to be an expert assassin too.
But what would have been not weird was for the man to coat his blade in poison.
Became the murder had been clearly premeditated- one did not simply carry a giant dagger underneath one's sleeve after all.
But for some reason that was not done.
Perhaps the man had no access to it or simply did not think it would have been necessary.
But whatever the case, Alexander certainly dodged a deadly bullet there.
For if it was sufficiently poisoned, he would have surely joined that man.
And even if it was not, Alexander might have been turned a cripple, having to cut his left arm off.
That would have been disastrous
So as he was sat down near the bank of the pool, and the sounds of clothes being ripped to make makeshift bandages could be heard, he once again thanked his lucky stars.
"The wound is very deep. We will need to stitch it first." While one of his bodyguards, who was also a qualified doctor approached Alexander to inspect the gap stab and commented such.
"I will go get a doctor." And immediately another voice chimed hearing this, getting ready to head out to get the necessary instruments like needles and stitches.
Something that caused Alexander to rage internally,
'Dammit! How did I forget to mandate something as simple as to always carry a first aid box?' 'Fuckubg donkey!'
His foul mood originated not only from the wound but also from the fact that he was quite mad at himself for failing to take even the most basic security precautions, one which almost led to his death.
How else would he describe being almost stabbed to death by a regular priest?
Alexander would admit that after his recent victory, he had let his guard down.
He should have never gotten so close to the priests and vowed to always keep a good distance during any interaction.
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