BOOM!!!
A deafening roar, far more terrifying than any tremor before, seemed to shake the very foundations of the palace.
The Pearl Hall's proud double doors—adorned with ivory, jewels, and depictions of Myr's glorious history—exploded inward with a thunderous crash, along with nearly half of the surrounding wall, thick and heavy, carved with bas-reliefs of the gods.
A crimson Dragonfire, blazing with blinding red light and unbearable heat, forcibly tore its way in from the outside.
Massive stone fragments flew into the hall, crashing onto the floor with dull thuds and instantly setting the precious carpets ablaze.
Smoke, debris, sparks, and scorching air rushed into the hall like a tsunami.
The searing heat engulfed every corner, blinding those caught in it.
The temperature within the hall skyrocketed, turning it into a furnace.
Through the massive breach, a suffocating crimson form slowly lowered its head.
Its massive skull, covered in thick, blood-red scales, pushed its way in.
Vertical pupils, blazing with molten gold fury, scanned the humans inside with cold indifference.
The destructive crimson glow deep in its throat hadn't yet died out, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
A low, threatening growl rolled from its chest, reverberating like muffled thunder, shaking the hearts of all who heard it.
Upon the neck of this monstrous dragon, a figure stood like a demon god.
Lo Quen!
Clad in Valyrian steel armor, his black hair whipped by the wind, his face was chiseled, almost sculpted in its handsomeness.
His gaze was colder than the dragon's own, utterly still, exuding the absolute indifference of one who looks down upon mere dust.
Mounted upon the world-ending beast, he slowly entered the Pearl Hall.
Blooddancer's colossal form forced its way into the chamber.
Its forelegs, claws digging into the ground, braced against the floor. Each heavy step of its dragon claws sent vibrations through the entire hall.
The intense heat and sulfurous stench from its body immediately filled the space.
"Aaah—!!!"
"A dragon! A dragon has entered!"
"Gods! Save us!"
Witnessing this nightmare-like scene, the Pearl Hall descended into utter chaos.
The Magisters let out heart-rending screams.
Some fainted, foaming at the mouth.
Others knelt, banging their heads against the scorching ground, producing dull thuds.
The obese First Magister slid from his throne, collapsing into a heap of filth, his bowels and bladder emptying as a foul stench spread.
He could only emit gasping, wheezing sounds like a broken bellows—terror had completely stolen his ability to speak.
Lo Quen's gaze swept slowly over this grotesque assembly of power-hungry figures, finally settling on the collapsed Magister.
"Myr's rulers... Did you really think allying with the Dothraki could hold back the storm?"
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto the obese figure. "Especially you—it was you who conspired with the rulers of the other Free Cities to summon those savages, wasn't it? Did you think hiding in your gilded palaces, playing your power games woven from gold and lies, would keep you safe?"
The First Magister, crumpled on the floor, shuddered violently and pleaded, "It wasn't us... It was Braavos! And Volantis! They came up with the plan..."
Lo Quen's voice rose sharply: "How dare you claim you weren't involved? Enough talk. Remember this: the moment you chose to greet me with swords and treachery, you forfeited any right to negotiate."
His gaze swept once more over the pale-faced members of the Magister's Council: "Your so-called Free Cities were built upon the blood and tears of slaves, upon betrayal and conspiracy. Its foundations have long been hollowed out by your own greed and folly. Today is merely the inevitable collapse of a rotting structure."
"Myr needs a new order. And you, the remnants of the old era, along with your filthy deals and the blood of your betrayals..."
Lo Quen gently patted the thick-scaled neck of Blooddancer, issuing his command.
Instantly, the crimson glow deep within the dragon's throat surged violently.
Its massive head turned toward the Magisters, now collapsed on the ground like lambs awaiting slaughter.
"No—!!!"
"Spare me! Lord, spare me!!"
"Gold! I have gold! I'll give you everything!!"
The pleas for mercy, wails, and desperate screams reached a fever pitch, but it was all too late.
"Roar—!!!"
A massive, blood-red pillar of molten lava erupted from the Blooddancer's maw.
In the instant the pillar engulfed them, the ornate robes, the bloated bodies, the terrified, twisted faces, the priceless jewels—everything was vaporized in a flash, not even a scream escaping.
Only a charred, gaping crater remained where they once stood.
Lo Quen cast a cold glance at the scene before gently tugging the reins, guiding Blooddancer to move away.
Blooddancer let out a satisfied growl, slowly retreating as its massive form squeezed back through the hole it had melted open, returning to the burning palace grounds.
Lo Quen, mounted on Blooddancer, soared into the sky, with Jaelena and Janice following closely behind on Silverfall and Duskshadow.
Three colossal dragons circled above the ruins of the Magister's Mansion, where thick smoke billowed and flames roared, their immense shadows casting over the shattered city below.
On the ground, surviving citizens and soldiers gazed up at the three fearsome dragons, staring at the still-burning Magister's Mansion. The last traces of their will to resist crumbled away.
Countless people dropped to their knees, their foreheads pressed to the ground, whimpering in fear.
Myr, the jewel of the Nine Free Cities, renowned for its craftsmanship, had fallen.
After Myr's capture, Lo Quen got to work, directing his forces to seize control of the entire city.
As the wealthiest of the three daughter Free Cities, taking Myr was of immense significance for Lo Quen.
Soon, all supplies and prisoners were accounted for.
The wealth of the Myrish people was laid bare before Lo Quen for the first time.
The treasury held approximately one million golden dragons worth of Myrish iron coins. Since these coins, like those of Tyrosh, held low value, when soldiers opened the Magister's storehouses, the coins practically spilled out.
Additionally, Lo Quen captured nearly thirty thousand Dothraki Shouting Warriors, along with one hundred thousand warhorses.
Several days later, Lo Quen received two reports from Meizo.
First, Tywin was rampaging through the Riverlands after Catelyn had captured the Imp.
With Jaime staying in King's Landing, Tywin marched twenty thousand men toward Pinkmaiden Castle, while Ser Kevan Lannister led another fifteen thousand east toward Golden Tooth. The Hound was sent to raid and pillage the Riverlands countryside.
Second, Eddard Stark had been imprisoned in the Red Keep dungeons by King Robert for treason.
Jon Snow's true identity had caused an uproar across the Seven Kingdoms. Nobles, knights, and even bards in taverns and inns were discussing the matter.
In an instant, Lord Eddard's honor was shattered, and he became the target of scathing criticism.
Lo Quen wrote another letter to Meizo, instructing him to find a way to deliver the letters to both King Robert and Great Lord Tywin.
As for how Meizo would discreetly arrange for his intelligence agents to carry out the task, that depended entirely on the spies he had planted throughout Westeros.
Lo Quen carefully stored the letters. He could hardly wait to see the drama unfold in Westeros.