Seeing the enemy beco more and more squeezed, the island of blue shrinking under the relentless onslaught of the black and green, General Achillas rejoiced, his heart already dancing with glee.
He began to dream of presenting all these heads at Lord Parker's feet just like he had promised and expectantly looked forward to the rich rewards that would be waiting for him for this great accomplishnt.
The thought was so sweet that Achillas even found the hated Lord Bernard pleasing right now, as he could not give the man thanks for his help from the bottom of his heart.
'Hah hah, Bernard, oh Bernard, thanks for all your hard work. I will be taking that commander's head for myself!' Achillas sang.
And so enthralled in his enjoynt was he that the general failed to even notice Alexander's presence in the formation, even though he was very gaudily dressed, drawing every eye in the vicinity towards him.
And it could be argued this was a good thing for the man himself because if he did beco privy to this knowledge, who knew if the man would have kept a straight face, knowing among the heads he was about to present lay the head of their greatest nesis.
His glee might have been too much to contain.
As for the other reasons why Achillas missed Alexander, well it was also because the general had never seen Alexander's in his battle armor, and Alexander not being on his usually tall steed, commanding the troops and standing out in a bright feathered peacock.
But instead, he marched with the formation on foot, a choice taken due to the narrowness of the bridge, thus allowing him to blend in with the surrounding infantry.
It could even be said this was the only reason Alexander was alive, not being shot to ribbons by the many archers on either side.
If the General had gotten a whiff of his presence, he would have tried to kill the man with the utmost prejudice, not even bothering to consider taking him a prisoner.
Because only by killing the man did Achillas feel he could return the most favor from his lord.
So it was a good thing that Alexander did not bother with the option of surrendering, but by now was starting to make it towards the railing of the bridge, pushing and shoving his way through his n, until he was craning over the edge, taking one last good at the waters before the fateful leap of fate.
'So this is 'it' as they say?' Looking at the swirling blue vortex frothing down below, Alexander swallowed a dry gulp once again.
To say that the man was having thoughts would be very apt.
Especially given that he was beginning to realize that even if the jump was successful, that did not guarantee a safe swim ashore.
The mansion was at least a few kiloters away, the water was freezing cold and there were so many ships around, many of which would love to kill or capture him.
And Alexander was being asked to overco all this while wearing chainmail and thick leather armor.
Even the man would not place his bet on him.
But this was the hands he had drawn for himself.
So what other choice did he have?
Alexander thus at last made up his mind and turned to give one last glance at all the n fighting behind, all of whom were fighting, struggling, and shuffling their bodies against each other, trying to endure as best as they could, while being slowly ground down and slowly squeezed together into a large mass of blue lump.
It would be a lie to say Alexander's heart did not throb with imnse pain at this sight, with a small part of him asking him to abandon the jump and remain there, and die honorably with all these n who were willing to lay their lives for him.
And his heart sizzled like it was being roasted in corrosive acid at the thought of losing so many n, at the thought of losing this campaign, and most of all, at the thought of losing so many friends and comrades just like this.
Thus his eyes scanned the many faces all around him, burning them eternally into his mory along with the many expressions they were making.
There were so who were flushed with anger, so pallid and fearless, so stoic and nonchalant, and so bellicose and spewing curses, all mixed with many other subtle emotions.
But if there was one single emotion missing from all this, it was the emotion of fear or despair, with not a single of one the n letting out a single groan of panic or crying or begging for his life.
No, for these were the faces of real n, fully embodied by the expression of their leader, Hemicus, who Alexander could see was leading from the front, fighting on the very front echelon, with a large grin pasted on his face and appearing euphoric.
The smile was from ear to ear with all his pearly whites exposed, as the usually stoic man decided to not let the enemy have the satisfaction of seeing any regret or fear on his face when they killed him.
The sight left a deep impression, no a scar on Alexander, as subconsciously a single tear rolled off his eyes.
He had spent the better part of his last fifteen years with Hemicus and other mbers of his bodyguards, and to think all of them would die, all gone in the blink of an eye, and with that all the ti they spent together, it was a heart rendering feeling for the man.
'How am I going to find another 'Hemicus' to protect ? And how am I going to explain this loss to Cam and the others?'
Alongside the sadness of losing so many n, Alexander also found himself asking about the huge losses about to be incurred here.
Because the loss of these n would be incalculable for Alexander, not only in terms of sentintal value but perhaps even more so from a military and practical standpoint.
Even soone as high as him would be called to account for losing so many good n and for such a relatively minor matter.
And so Alexander felt that if he could go back to the very beginning of all this, he would have surely shown Lord Janus the door the mont he saw the old man, not even bothering to listen to the man.
Lady Miranda and his free trade agreent could go to hell, he did not care.
But there was little use crying over split milk.
Thus giving a last look at all the n he was about to abandon to try and save his skin, Alexander at last placed his hands on the railing and started to lift his torso, attempting to throw himself overboard.
'Is that?'
When suddenly, out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the sight of a ship flying a familiar sail!
A sail bearing his emblem- a large blue flower on white!
And soon that one vessel multiplied to three off on the horizon, causing the man's heart to bloom in relief and happiness like it had never had.
'Those basted! Took them long enough!' Hence Alexander cheered with almost literal sparkles in his eyes, as at the sa he heard a similar excited shout coming from the other side of his formation,
"Look! Reinforcents! Our reinforcents are here! Hahaha, we are saved! The gods have not abandoned us! Hahaha, we are saved!"
Yes! These were the ships that Alexander had originally asked to co and attack SR, intending to use them to smash his anchored fleet.
But now, they had suddenly turned into their golden parachute.
The fleet that he had used ca via the southwestern route, appearing from the left of the bridge, while the eastern fleet belonging to Kazid chose the eastern route, passing the battlezone where Remus and Lord Kite were still duking it with no signs of stopping anyti soon and coming to Alexander's view from the bridge's right side.
They were six in total, all beelining towards him from either side, and seeing this, Alexander instantly abandoned his dangerous thought of jumping overboard, but instead rapidly turned around to join his n in battle, cheering to them,
"Our rescue is here my brothers. I told you didn't I, Gaia would never abandon her son! And she will not abandon you either, her son's followers!"
Making such a grand claim out of thin air, Alexander then raised his arms into the arms and shouted,
"So now is the ti to push the enemy back! Do not falter! Push! Push them back. Do not let them straggle you. We are getting out of here!
Make space! Make space so that we can escape."
And this sudden sight of a thin ray of light of hope in that deep, dark tunnel of despair proved to be like the world's strongest adrenaline boost for the legionaries, who till now had already written themselves off as dead n.
So when they were suddenly offered not just a thin straw to clutch, but a solid, sturdy rope, well the n certainly grasped it hard and fast, before letting out a deafening roar.
They were back.
Let us say no to piracy! Don't take part in a cri! Don't patronize thieves!
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