Chapter 212 – Alexander (6)

Firecrackers sounded to announce the start of the parade.

Alice had to settle her emotions as she sat under the tent at the Harvest Festival and wiggled her fingers. Lorena was breathing heavily, her sword in hand, and she was dozing off in her seat, with Alexander’s two men in their seats.

They did not participate in this parade event. Alexander’s chariot was now ridden by two Ithaca-born paladins and two Ithaca-born swordsmen who had a grudge against Alexander. They were men willing to give their lives for Alexander to stab.

Five brilliant colors twinkled like stars in the sky.

Alexander looked up at the sky and chuckled, holding a wine glass in his hand. His thick belly was covered with a cloth and his virtuous neck was covered with the robe of a saint. It looked like a toad disguised as a human, or like a gigantic, unknown devil. Those who thought he would boo when he appeared, had to avoid looking at Alexander with a slightly intimidated face or keep his mouth shut at the sight of Alexander, who was bigger and more menacing than they thought.

“The sky is pretty. Isn’t it?”

Alexander tapped the paladin next to him on the shoulder and said so. The knight nodded his head with an expressionless face. Alexander took another sip of wine, thinking that a knight was not like a knight. Paladins felt the unique moderate and gentle aura, but the knight next to them was showing off their sharp aura, as if it had been dyed in Ithaca.

Alexander knew how he was standing here. The mere fact of escorting a filthy saint in the capital would make him feel bad.

Alexander brought up the story of his Hero days to relieve the stiff atmosphere.

“When I was adventuring with Wolf, Wolf always talked about the goddess. It was a story about a goddess who fluttered down from such a colorful sky with her hair that seemed to copy the light as it was.”

The knights listened to Alexander’s story. It was because hearing a story about God directly from a saint was an uncommon story. Alexander sipped his wine and said.

“I also sometimes wish that the god we believe in was a goddess like Wolf said. Lets think. When we die, we all go to the arms of God, but how happy would it be if we went to the arms of a beautiful goddess as Wolf said? I want to die playing with the goddess’ breasts too. Heh heh heh!”

It was a very rich story worthy of a harvest festival. The knights who had been listening to the end of the story looked away with more annoyed expressions or sighed and shook their heads. When the joke of conversion, which was thrown to lighten the atmosphere, failed, Alexander clicked his tongue and said,

“The atmosphere is strange, in the capital, people burst into laughter every time I open my mouth.”

There was no one to comfort him despite his sullen tone.

******

As Alexander frowned and searched for wine again, the wizards stationed on the roof of the building exchanged glances with the guards. Soldiers stationed in high buildings in the name of preventing possible sniping reported Alexander’s location in real time so that the wizards could easily work.

“Alexander is waving from two blocks away.”

Then, the elite teachers dispatched from the academy prepared to activate the magic circle using magic transmitters and hand signals. Their eyes were shining blue, waiting for Alexander to rise above the magic circle.

“Heh heh heh!”

Alexander laughed at the joke again.

The guard standing at the far end raised a firecracker high. Purple fireworks were the signal for the operation. The wizards raised their heads, paying attention to the voices of the guards.

“One block left!”

Rumia, who was watching the whole situation from afar, unknowingly bit her nails. The lady with her fan covered her face as if not seeing her situation, and her body trembled. A thick nobleman chewed on a cigar, and the knight commander cautiously put his hand on the scabbard in the procession.

The wagon wheels were rolling slowly.

Two shadows grabbed the line hidden on the floor. The rope, which was hidden in thick soil, was supposed to block the road the moment the wagon was about to pass over the magic circle. The knights widened their eyes and lowered their stance.

A passer-by who came out to watch the parade without thinking had an uneasy expression on his face as strange energy suddenly radiated here and there. The guard shouted as he saw the slowly approaching wagon.

“Now it’s right in front of you!”

Sorcerers began to infuse magic. The wagon, which had been slowly moving forward, began to slow down. The coachman let go of the reins as if nothing had happened, and the device holding the rope was released.

Tung!

“Wow!”

The rope I had hidden on the floor bounced up and hit the bottom of the wagon. The wagon, which was about to move forward, slightly lifted and the wheel axle bent. The coachman naturally began to untie the ropes that held her horses.

Purple firecrackers rose.

Alexander looked around and said.

“What. What happened?”

But no one explained. The paladin lied with a natural expression.

“The carriage must have taken a while.”

“The carriage was caught?”

Alexander looked around. He looked around, narrowing his eyes. Huge strings protruding down the road and faintly palpable magic attribute. Alexander was dull, but not stupid. He picked up the mace he had beside him and swung it at the paladin standing behind him.

“Silence!”

At the same time, the wagon he was riding in was swallowed up by huge magical energy. The limbs of the paladin hit by Alexander’s mace exploded as if they had been hit by a bomb, and they scattered in all directions. His entrails were crushed beyond recognition of his shape, blood spattered on the market floor, and his head in his helm was contorted with no idea what had happened to him.

Passers-by did not understand what had happened. The image of the paladin being smashed and the wagon surrounded by purple magic were too unrealistic.

Alexander opened his mouth and shouted at the coachman.

“!!!!”

But no words were heard, as if a crucian carp was gurgling in the water. The coachman hit his horses hard on the buttocks and jumped out of the carriage. Horses run away There is a magic circle on the floor.

Alexander stretched out his hand towards the other paladin. On the other side, he aimed at Alexander’s side and swung his sword. The blade dug deep into his side, and Alexander let out a silent scream.

The paladin in his hand could not even swing his sword and was crushed together with his helmet. A lump of iron is crushed like soft fruit, and blood trickles down between his hands. Passers-by, barely aware of the reality at the sight of the flesh falling off, began to run away frantically.

“Saints kill people!”

“Kyaaaaah!”

Alexander swung his mace at another knight who stabbed him in the side.

Then, another man with a short dagger stabbed Alexander in the back. He felt a burning pain as his spine narrowly deflected. He almost missed the mace, but Alexander managed to wield it and subdue the knight who stabbed him.

The chariot, which received the mace’s shock, leaned to one side, and her knight’s upper body was terribly distorted. Alexander tried to get out, holding on to his side.

Silent magic.

In the silence magic that was used on such a large scale, even Alexander could not use divine magic.

Alexander struggled to get up and tried to get out. But at the moment he leaned forward, dozens of people were climbing up his carriage. Alexander swung his mace wide, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

Mace’s wind pressure pushed the wagon itself backwards. People in front collapsed to the floor under the pressure, with pieces of meat rolling across the floor. Then, a knife blade flew at his shoulder.

“!!!!”

Alexander let out another silent scream and turned around.

Outside the magic circle, Rumia and her companions could be seen approaching in clerical uniforms. They chanted divine incantations, shouting at the Assassins, not at Alexander.

“Holly Armor!”

“Strength!”

The assassin who fell to the floor rises with his eyes wide open, even with his arm smashed. The assassin who should have died with a single blow of his fist rises with his chest hollowed out and swings his sword once more.

“!!!!!”

Alexander screamed and continued to swing his fists. When I threw the fragments of the broken wagon, one of the priests screamed in two before reacting. He grabbed the assassin’s leg with his other hand and swung it hard like a mace.

Another assassin collided with the assassin turned into bloody smoke, and Alexander was holding only the assassin’s leg.

Alexander brandished his mace with his other hand. As the mace hit the floor vertically, a heavy vibration resonated throughout the market, and a weak aftermath spread.

The assassin hit head-on became a flattened piece of meat, and others around him were pushed back like bombs.

Priests who supported divine magic collapsed vomiting blood using excessive force, and assassins rolled around.

Rumia began pouring her holy power down her whitened face.

The body of the assassins who fell to the floor was alive again, and those who could not control their bodies in shock rapidly recovered from their wounds and began to rise again.

Alexander started to waddle, even with blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

He slowly worked his way through his fragments, recalling Wolf’s advice to him to lose weight.

If I go out this time, I will have to go on a diet.

I gritted my teeth thinking that.

And just as he was about to get out of the carriage, someone stabbed Alexander in the leg. A powerful blow that pierced his knee, Alexander fell. Even as he fell, he stretched out his hands forward and tried to crawl out of his magic circle.

However, there was no more opportunity for him who exposed his back intact.

Swords and spears began to fly from all sides as if they had been waiting.

Someone without a weapon started hitting Alexander on the head with stones and splinters of wood.

“!!!! !!!!”

Alexander shouted as he stretched out his hand towards Rumia.

But nothing was heard. He was pouring out curse words with hateful eyes, but no one listened.

Muddy muddy. The hem of his clothes was soaked in blood and the dagger that stabbed him deeply came out with a lot of grease on it.

The bloody water on the floor gushed out ceaselessly as if trying to eat the entire market.

Alexander’s outstretched hand turned white

His breathing stopped.

The silent screams were over, but the assassins were hacking at the corpse more and more brutally as if their anger was not resolved. Those who had fled also gathered one by one and approached to stone or club Alexander’s corpse.

No sound was heard.

As if nothing had happened, there was only silent hacking in the magic circle.

Surrounded by people, Alexander’s arms were dancing. His priestly robe was torn, and his flesh rolled across the floor.

Rumia felt a drop of her blood flow from the corner of her mouth. She spat blood on the floor, and she sat down on the floor, her face pale.

She sighed and looked at the unreal scene.

It was a terrible victory.