The Mountain of Ice and Fire

"Arya, no matter what happens, I will not draw my sword against you." Jon Targaryen said, each word distinct. "You are my sister, Winterfell is my home, and that will never change."

Clatter! Crash!

A strange noise came from outside the door.

Jon darted behind the door, while Arya moved to the window.

Jon turned back to see Arya had transformed back into her maidservant guise, but in her hand, she held a narrow sword with a faint blue glow—the Valyrian steel blade, Lady Forlorn.

Jon opened the door. Around the corner, a servant lay on the ground, the cups and plates in his hands shattered, the roasted meat from the plate scattered on the floor.

Jon hurried over. The servant's face was pale and black, black blood trickling from the corner of his mouth; he was already dead.

"It's poison!" Arya's voice sounded beside Jon.

Before the words had even faded, both of them felt a slight tremor in the ground. Before they could react, a muffled boom came from underground, the walls shook, the ground heaved, and both of them staggered, nearly falling.

"Run!" Arya shouted at the dumbfounded Jon.

"My brothers are still underground."

"You can't save them." Arya pushed Jon hard. The siblings ran out quickly.

Boom!

Another muffled boom came!

Crack, crack!

Various sounds of breaking filled the air densely.

Boom boom boom!

Several muffled booms came from deep underground one after another. The ceiling cracked, the ground tore open, the walls tilted, and it looked as if the entire tower was about to collapse.

Boom!

With a loud crash, the main keep's tower fractured in the middle amidst violent shaking. The top-level map room collapsed entirely, smashing onto the stables and guards' barracks below, creating an earth-shattering roar.

*

In the main hall, just after Arya and Jon had left, the first drunk person appeared: Anguy!

Anguy had shot down the Dothraki archer Ago in the training grounds. He had received toasts from the Mountain's generals, followed by many Dothraki generals lining up to toast him. This caused Anguy to drink the most in the shortest amount of time. Finally, he couldn't hold any more and groggily stood up, deciding to relieve himself first. The generals from both sides watched him leave. Suddenly, Anguy stumbled and fell to the ground, spitting out a large mouthful of black blood.

The generals were shocked and swarmed around him. The Mountain also stood up abruptly, and Lady Melisandre, the accompanying priestess, also stood up and quickly walked towards Anguy, but she suddenly stopped and shouted to the Mountain, "Get out of here, Lord Mountain! The food and wine are poisoned, and wildfire is buried underground!"

Melisandre had not seen any hints or warnings in the flames beforehand. It was only at the last moment that she foresaw the truth of today's 'peace agreement'—a trap for strangulation.

The Mountain was no longer afraid of poison because Jeyne was a bloodmage, but Melisandre's words about wildfire buried underground frightened him. He was not a fire-resistant person; what he feared most was fire attacks. At the same time, on the other side, Tyrion suddenly felt an itch in his severed nostril, as if small insects were crawling there. He reached out and wiped it, horrified to find his hand covered in black blood. Varys and Littlefinger at the same table both looked astonished. Tyrion looked at them, and drip, drip, drip, black blood dripped from Littlefinger and Varys's nostrils…

*

The Mountain reached out and lifted Daenerys up. "Daenerys, you are truly despicable."

"The Mountain, I don't know what's going on." Daenerys's face paled. "Where is Bran Stark? Someone, go and find Bran."

Bang!

Arianne Martell suddenly fell headfirst onto the table beside her, her forehead smashing a plate in front of her. She slid to the ground, black blood flowing from the corner of her mouth, and passed out.

"Brothers, charge out!" The Mountain roared. The shout made everyone's ears ring.

Thump thump bang bang!

People kept falling to the ground in the hall, black blood flowing from the corners of their mouths. These people included the Mountain's generals and Daenerys's subordinates.

In just an instant, the hall was in chaos.

The Mountain lifted Arianne Martell with his left hand and strode out of the hall. Suddenly, he staggered, as if drunk. The Mountain was shocked. He was very restrained when drinking and would never get drunk, but his steps began to falter, feeling like every step he took was on a pile of cotton. Everything in front of him began to shake, and more and more violently.

Melisandre's voice, like a spear piercing the illusory world, rang in the Mountain's ears: "Blow the horn, summon Sheepstealer."

The Mountain was holding two people in his hands, Arianne Martell and Daenerys Targaryen. He felt his hands and feet were sore, and his strength was being frantically drawn from his body by some force, but his senses were still there. He felt Daenerys's hand reach into his chest and take out the Dragon Horn. Then, at the moment the Mountain fell, he heard the sound of the Dragon Horn being blown by Daenerys. He heard Melisandre ordering the generals to quickly drink something. Then, he saw Melisandre's face appear in front of him…

"Save Arianne first, I can still manage." The Mountain said. He let go of Daenerys. Daenerys was summoning the dragon with the Dragon Horn. He heard the roar of Sheepstealer, the huge fellow was rushing from high altitude.

Arianne had already fainted, but the Mountain could still speak, still see, still think, but he was powerless all over, like a pile of soft flesh that could speak and breathe on the ground.

Melisandre picked up Arianne's head, pinched her nostrils, and a general pried open Arianne's mouth. Melisandre forcibly poured a cup of wine mixed with colorful powder into her mouth.

Whoosh!

The sound of a short crossbow breaking through the air rang out, hitting Melisandre's right shoulder.

Melisandre cried out. A black shadow holding a shadow sword appeared out of thin air. The shadow sword circled and cut off the other crossbow bolts. Several short crossbowmen wearing black masks appeared and densely shot at the Mountain's side.

Melisandre waved her hand, and a spark flew out, landing on the chest of a short crossbowman. With a bang, the spark exploded into a huge fireball, engulfing several short crossbowmen. Amidst screams, more short crossbowmen wearing black masks appeared from various entrances, their crossbow bolts densely shooting towards the Mountain's courtiers, court scholars, knights, and generals. Melisandre's face was pale, and she chanted strange rhythmic incantations. Another black shadow appeared out of thin air, holding a black shadow sword.

Two shadow guards swept past like the wind, killing towards the short crossbowmen. Screams rose and fell.

Daenerys stopped blowing the Dragon Horn. She put the Dragon Horn into her arms: "Crossbowmen, stop shooting, otherwise…"

"Your Majesty, you have to kill the Mountain." A voice coldly interrupted Daenerys. This person looked like a general. He stood calmly at the door, raised his crossbow, and aimed an arrow at the Mountain on the ground. The black short arrow hit the Mountain's chest. Immediately, two people pounced on the Mountain to act as human shields.

A shadow guard floated over, holding up the shadow sword in his hand. The man stood calmly, aimed at the rushing shadow guard, and pulled the trigger. Swish swish swish, a series of arrows shot through the shadow guard, hitting the paneling on the opposite side.

The shadow guard arrived like the wind. The man cursed fiercely, with a genuine Northern accent. He didn't linger and immediately turned to flee. As soon as the general fled, the short crossbowmen fled one after another.

"Someone, come and help, drag Lord Mountain out." Daenerys found her voice strange and shrill.

The Mountain's body was too large, and two or three strong men couldn't lift him.

The hall was full of dead people, and many crossbow bolts were stuck in the tables, chairs, paneling. Cups, plates, bowls, and dishes were a mess.

Boom!

In the chaos, from the depths of the earth, a muffled sound came out.

"Get out, the wildfire has exploded." Melisandre shouted loudly.

Several Clegane generals worked together to lift the Mountain up and rushed out of the hall. Two shadow guards cleared the way, invincible.

Boom boom boom!

Muffled sounds kept coming from the depths of the ground. The ground trembled, the walls tore apart, the ceiling crashed down, and the sounds of various objects breaking densely sounded. This was the prelude to the collapse of the world…

Crack!

With a clear, crisp sound, the main keep's tower fractured amidst the shaking!

Boom!

With a loud crash, the top-level map room collapsed entirely, smashing onto the stables and guards' barracks below the tower, creating an earth-shattering roar.

*

Outside the city walls, at the feast grounds, without warning, a place in the center suddenly collapsed. With a boom, a tall column of dust shot up… The column spread out, engulfing countless Dothraki cavalry sitting on the ground…

Amidst the violent tremors of the ground, on the training grounds, with a loud crack, the tall training platform collapsed with a bang…

Behind Dragonstone, closely relying on Dragonstone Mountain—the Dragonstone Mountain had already been hollowed out: In order to provide the Northmen with dragon crystal weapons and dragon crystal arrows, thousands of Westerlands miners had hollowed out many places under Dragonstone Island—without warning, Dragonstone Mountain suddenly emitted a shocking roar, countless boulders rolled down, the sky collapsed and the earth cracked, smashing onto the walls of Dragonstone, the stone houses of the barracks, the blacksmith shops and streets, emitting earth-shattering sounds, stirring up a sky full of thick dust…

Rumble!

With a thunderous roar, the entire main keep's tower collapsed, sinking, and a stream of green fire burst from the sky-filled smoke and dust, rushing into the high sky…

Roar!

Roar!

Roar!

Roar!

In the sky, four dragons arrived together, led by the dragon Sheepstealer.

The dragon Sheepstealer plunged headfirst into the green fire wrapped in countless smoke and dust.

The black dragon Drogon, the bronze dragon Rhaegal, and the white dragon Viserion rushed into the green fire and yellow smoke together.

Boom boom boom!

The walls of Dragonstone began to collapse section by section!

Countless warhorses, Dothraki people, and Unsullied were running and scurrying wildly! Looking down from high altitude, the entire Dragonstone Island was covered with black spots like ants, a mess. Everywhere was collapsing, smoke and dust billowing, screams, shouts, exclamations, curses, and the cracking sound of objects breaking, and the rumbling sound of heavy objects falling echoed together…

In the harbor of Dragonstone Island, the soldiers and sailors on hundreds of warships looked at each other, not knowing what had happened on the island. Everything came too suddenly, as if it were the end of the world. In history, the end of the Valyrian Empire was the eruption of underground volcanoes, burning the entire empire into ashes, and no one, human or dragon, in the empire survived…

On the queen's flagship, Ser Barristan Selmy, the fearless captain of the Kingsguard, who had just been led onto the ship by a guard, was shocked. He turned around and strode off the ship, but was stopped by a voice: "Ser Barristan, don't worry, Queen Daenerys is not in danger."

Barristan turned back and saw Bran Stark appearing in a wheelchair, with two cold-faced women beside him, their skin dark, their bare arms tattooed with colorful little snakes, one holding a long spear, the other holding a long whip, dressed in Dornish attire. In addition, there was a teenager, dressed in armor, with a long sword at his waist, and an eye-catching and terrifying family crest embroidered on his chest armor: a flayed man.

The Flayed Man—the family crest of House Bolton, a great noble house of the North. The Boltons' motto is 'A naked man has few secrets, but a flayed man has none.'

"Bolton?" Barristan gripped the hilt of his sword. He knew that people from House Bolton had been driven out of the North by Robb Stark of House Stark.

"Ser Barristan, I am Ramsay Bolton, you can call me the Fallen Man." The teenager was gentle and polite.

Barristan frowned and turned to get off the ship. He knew that the mysterious person who insisted on seeing him on the queen's flagship was none other than Bran Stark.

"Ser Barristan, Dragonstone Island is collapsing, and you will be in mortal danger if you go up. I know who you are worried about, you are worried about Her Majesty the Queen. She will be fine, she will retreat safely. What we want to kill are the Mountain and his generals."

Barristan paused!

"Ser, I saw the day Dragonstone Island would collapse before the Great War against the White Walkers, but unfortunately, we secretly prepared too little wildfire material. The Mountain transported almost all the wildfire from King's Landing to the North for the Winterfell battle. We had to use the Mountain's dragon crystal mining tunnels to make a very reluctant attempt. Currently, it seems that the effect is indeed very poor. The collapse of Dragonstone's main building is too slow, and the burning of the wildfire is not significant."

"Bran, did the Queen agree to your plan to destroy Dragonstone?"

"No, Ser Barristan, the collapse of Dragonstone's walls was not in our plan. I estimate that the fracture and collapse of the main keep's tower caused the underground mining tunnels to collapse, which caused an earthquake on the island. This was beyond my expectations."

"Bran, many of our own people are with the Mountain."

"No, I have asked people to find excuses to transfer away those who are loyal, like you."

"Lord Hand…"

"Littlefinger and Varys are no longer trustworthy. Littlefinger has already clearly sided with the Mountain. He betrayed us after being taken away by the Mountain."

Barristan was speechless: "…………"

A man in luxurious clothing slowly appeared behind Bran. He was tall, with a calm face and an air as refined as Ramsay Bolton, like a scholar.

Ser Barristan's eyes narrowed. "Lord Roose Bolton!"

"Ser Barristan!" Roose Bolton said calmly.

Roose Bolton, the former Lord of the Dreadfort in the North, was outwardly refined but inwardly cold and ruthless, and skilled at calculation. He always spoke softly, never raising his voice, forcing listeners to pay close attention. He had a well-known habit of using leeches to draw blood, believing it maintained his health, earning him the special title: 'Lord Leech'.