The violent tremors didn't come from a single crack, but from the chain collapse of the entire hall's structure.
The giant stone pillars supporting the vast dome began to tilt and crumble amidst a series of tooth-aching snapping sounds.
First was a stone pillar furthest from Aegon and the densest group of Ironborn.
It snapped in the middle, its upper half crashing toward the ground with thunderous force, instantly crushing several Ironborn and Mercenaries who couldn't dodge in time into meat paste.
"It's collapsing! It's going to collapse! Run!" Amidst the chaos, someone let out a shrill scream.
But this was only the beginning.
Like falling dominoes, more stone pillars snapped and toppled one after another.
Massive obsidian slabs peeled away from the dome, crashing down like meteors, smashing deep pits into the ground and kicking up clouds of dust.
The entire ceiling of the hall collapsed at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Henry, Karl, and the others were positioned near a relatively fragile archway at the edge of the hall.
A boulder smashed through the archway, causing a small-scale collapse, but by some fluke, it exposed the sky outside.
Though it might have been just faint skylight filtering through a massive hole above or another underground space.
Between them and Aegon, a wall of insurmountable ruins was instantly formed by the pouring boulders, broken pillars, and earth, cutting them off completely.
"Hain!!" Henry's eyes nearly split from rage, his portly body trying to rush toward the ruins, but he was held back firmly by Karl and another Mercenary.
He struggled and roared, watching helplessly as Aegon and the group of Ironborn besieging him were completely swallowed by more falling rocks and the collapsing dome structure, vanishing into the roar and dust.
"Go! Get out of here! The whole place is going to collapse!" Karl's voice was hoarse, almost pleading, as he pointed toward the accidentally exposed exit.
The few surviving Mercenaries, without a word, dragged the nearly frantic Henry along as they stumbled toward that only path to survival.
Looking back one last time, all Henry saw were the continuously falling boulders and the completely buried center of the palace.
Aegon's figure had been entirely covered by the shroud of death... and beneath the ruins.
Aegon was half-buried in the rubble. His Valyrian Steel armor protected his vital organs, but the impact sent his internal organs churning, and blood eventually seeped from the corner of his mouth.
Pushing the stones away with difficulty, he looked around.
Aside from the corpses of Ironborn littering the ground, there were only about a dozen Ironborn with fighting strength slowly closing in, and—strolling over at his leisure—Crows Eye.
Aegon was severely injured and his stamina was exhausted; he seemed to have fallen into an absolute dead end.
Crows Eye approached step by step, his footsteps sounding exceptionally clear in the hall that had suddenly become deathly silent.
His left hand casually toyed with a dagger shimmering with eerie green runes, his one eye looking down at the kneeling Aegon as if watching a moth caught in a spiderweb.
"A pity about this fine armor." Crows Eye's voice carried a hint of hypocritical regret, but mostly the playfulness of a cat catching a mouse. "Wearing it on you is truly a waste of a good thing."
He stopped a few paces in front of Aegon, his gaze sweeping over Aegon's blood-stained visor and trembling arms.
"Struggling for so long, killing so many of my men... in the end, it still comes to this." He shook his head, a cruel smile curling his blue-purple lips. "Tell me, why bother? If you had handed it over early, perhaps you could have died more comfortably."
Aegon lowered his head, panting heavily. Sweat mixed with blood dripped from his chin, splashing into small dark flowers on the obsidian floor.
Malice was gradually reviving, coalescing!
Aegon seemed to lack even the strength to lift his head.
Crows Eye lost his final bit of patience, his gaze turning cold. "Enough, let me finish you off personally and see if the blood of you silver-haired boys is truly redder than anyone else's!"
He raised his dagger, making a move to stab.
At that very moment—
Aegon suddenly snapped his head up!
Behind the visor's eye slits, in those violet eyes, there was no despair, no fear, not even exhaustion—only a kind of nearly burning cold flame and a resolute madness!
He no longer restrained himself, and the blood he could no longer suppress sprayed inside the visor, seeping out through the gaps.
But he smiled, the corner of his mouth curling into a nearly frantic, blood-stained cold smirk.
Targaryen paranoia and madness completely overrode rationality.
"Want to kill me?" Aegon's voice was hoarse, yet clear as cracking ice. "Then let's go to hell together!"
Before his words had even faded, under the astonished gazes of Crows Eye and the surrounding Ironborn, Aegon made a move they couldn't understand!
Before anyone could react, he gripped the hilt of his longsword with his left hand and pressed it with unerring precision against the tiny, almost invisible gap between his right wrist's Valyrian Steel gauntlet and the vambrace—a gap that existed for flexibility!
Without the slightest hesitation, he slashed down hard!
"Slash!"
The muffled sound of flesh being sliced open was tooth-aching.
Hot, crimson blood did not flow slowly, but like a long-suppressed fountain, it instantly burst forth from the gaps in the armor!
Blood splattered onto the pitch-black Valyrian Steel, onto the obsidian floor that was polished like a mirror, onto Aegon's own breastplate and visor, and even splashed onto Crows Eye's leather boots and trouser legs a few paces away.
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