In Holy Egypt, the line between medicine and magic is blurred.
Therefore, in the absence of effective treatments for many diseases, the Priests of Might sometimes also play the role of doctors.
However, what they do is not practicing medicine in the literal sense, but rather performing spells and rituals.
At this time, at the gate of the Holy Egyptian Palace.
The news of the arrival of the alien soldiers and the Mite priests attracted people to gather curiously not far away.
"Why are those Meite priests in the palace?"
"Don't you know? This is the order of His Majesty the Holy Pharaoh."
"Oh, that's it!"
"But why were they summoned?"
"What do you know? His Majesty the Saint Pharaoh must have his reasons for doing this!"
They all stood on tiptoe and raised their heads in the direction of Priest Mite.
"Stand back! Stand back! Don't interfere with the work of the Mite priests!"
The soldiers pushed and shoved, preventing the gathered crowd from moving any further.
A Mite priest took out some tattered papyrus. Although the papyrus looked a little dirty, the spells on it were written neatly.
"Master Nantong, we also need some Nile crocodile feces and cobra shells. These materials are crucial to the ritual."
"My strong soldier, can you fetch us some acacia bark? Remember, it must be fresh bark, the closer to the heart of the tree the better."
In just a few minutes, all the materials needed by the Might Priests were prepared.
The Nile crocodile's feces were stored in a bronze container and gave off a pungent smell.
The shed cobra shell is carefully placed on a piece of silk, like a natural work of art, fragile yet tough.
The soldier also brought back fresh acacia bark, which still had some moist sap on it.
The two Mite priests checked the materials and nodded with satisfaction.
Then, Priest Might came to the dying alien warrior and looked down to check his condition.
The soldier's face was pale and his breathing was as weak as the wind fanned by a mosquito's wings.
Although the wound on his chest had been treated with some powerful medicine, it still emitted a strange black aura.
And that black energy was now constantly eroding his life.
"The soldier's condition is getting worse," Priest Might said in a deep voice, with a hint of urgency in his tone, "Master Nantong, we must start the ritual immediately, otherwise he may not survive tonight."
Nan Tong's gaze fell on the face of the alien warrior, and his expression showed a little more worry.
He nodded gently towards Priest Matt: "Let's get started, Priest Matt, I will assist you."
Priest Mite took a deep breath, unfolded the papyrus in his hand, and began to chant the ancient spell in a low voice.
"Lion-shaped God! Please protect his body and defend his soul!"
"God of Wisdom and Writing, I will begin the ceremony. Please give me guidance in this long river of darkness!"
His voice was loud and rhythmic, as if resonating with some imperceptible force in the air.
As the ceremony progressed, waves of heat began to appear around Priest Mite. However, those heat waves did not have any temperature. They seemed to just make the air tumble and bend the light.
Then, the priest of Maite took the Nile crocodile feces and smeared it evenly around the warrior's wound.
Then he crushed the cobra's shed shell and scattered it on the acacia bark, which he then gently placed on the warrior's chest.
"The filthy thing on the dying man's chest! I command you! Leave his body immediately!"
The originally roiling and boiling air suddenly became heavy. In the sunlight, people's shadows twisted strangely as if they had suddenly gained vitality.
As the tempo of the spell gradually quickened, beads of sweat oozed out of the foreheads of many Mite priests, but the voice of the leading Mite priest was still powerful.
"I'll help you!"
Nan Tong stood aside, clasped his hands together, and also chanted the spell in a low voice.
At this time, the powerful magic power in his body began to continuously replenish the bodies of the Mite priests.
That eased the strained expressions on their faces a lot.
Nan Tong's eyes never left the soldier. He could feel that the soldier was relying on his strong willpower to hold on so as not to fall asleep.
Otherwise, if you fall asleep due to serious injuries, the probability of death will be even greater.
Suddenly, the warrior's body trembled violently, and the wound on his chest began to emit an increasingly intense black light.
Those rays were like smoke, completely blocking out the sun's rays.
The voice of Priest Might's incantation became louder and louder, and his fingers kept moving across the warrior's chest, as if he was performing some kind of sealing ritual.
"In the name of the Nile and the glory of the sun god Ra, I command you to leave his body!" The voice of the priest Maite echoed like thunder under the palace.
The warrior's body trembled violently again, and then a black gas gushed out from his wound and condensed into a vague shape in the air.
The form seemed to be struggling violently, unwilling to leave.
There was a sharp gleam in the eyes of Priest Mite, and he suddenly raised the papyrus in his hand.
"Disperse!" he shouted.
The black energy let out a sharp roar, and then completely dissipated in the sunlight.
The soldier's body gradually calmed down, and even his breathing became much steadier.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
