Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

Three hundred and eighteen, assassination

On the way to the Great Library, surrounding the dome, there were countless rooms densely packed like a honeycomb, and there was no sound inside.

The arrival of the ironmen's raiders brought a bloody smell here. The heavy plate armor of the green land and the red ocher leather armor used by the ironmen made bursts of shaking sounds. On the contrary, the sound of the rubbing of iron chains came from On some chain mails interlocking with iron rings.

It was astonishing that in the chaos that had characterized the Maester's Tower, not a single apprentice had mistakenly spilled sparks from a candle onto the freshly painted floor or cupboards.

The guards around Euron were silent and spoke little. Using this as an axis, it extended outward like a back beam of noise. The other marauders did not care about so many rules. They had just won the victory and had no reason to suppress their emotions.

The iron door was half-covered, with many bulging domes on the surface of the door. The huge Valyrian Sphinx was divided into two halves by the two doors. The ferocious and majestic eyes fell on Euron and his On Ironborn Reavers.

"Push it away," Euron ordered.

The plunderers stepped forward, and their strong arms came into play. The heavy iron door was completely pushed open. The iron type quickly walked in, and there were many small gasps in the empty and spacious library.

The huge storage room is like a hollowed-out iron mine in the Iron Islands, as if vast wealth and resources suddenly appeared in front of the Ironborn.

The marauders obviously couldn't hold back their excitement, as evidenced by their wide-open eyes, trembling cheeks, and hollow, dangling axes in their hands.

They didn't care about the true value of the thousands-year-old books in these cities. When they stepped into this somewhat cold storage room, the true meaning of conquest was beyond what they saw in front of them.

The victor's call circled below the dome again and spread.

The Ironborn conquered the Citadel, and ancient salt and iron conquered the rich green lands.

"Where are all the maesters?" Euron asked, choosing the nearest ironborn.

"A few of the people blocking the way died in the corridor, and most of them are probably still running for their lives," the predator said.

"The surroundings are blocked. Unless they turn into sparrows or dragons, no one can escape!"

Euron nodded slightly, the tip of his nose twitching slightly. The burning smell in the air made him a little uneasy.

He raised his head, and a corner of the soft armor padded under his coat was exposed to cover his neck. Euron held the hilt of the sword worn at his waist and looked at the silent darkness around the storage room with careful eyes.

Euron twisted his neck and looked up at the dome above his head. "Aren't the maesters afraid of mold when they put their books in a place like this?"

The crowd around them immediately laughed mockingly. The Ironborn stopped in front of the huge bookshelf and looked at the rows of thick books. The volume of their voices inadvertently became quieter. Many Ironborn pursed their lips and held back in front of the knowledge. breathe.

This was not normal, Euron noticed this, he walked over, took out a book from the bookshelf, and opened it casually.

"Religious Genealogy: About the Cultural Origins of the Drowned God." Euron read out the title of the book, a smile showing from the corners of his mouth. He shook the pages of the book, and the light overflowing from the gap in the thick iron door behind him shone on it, yellowing. Fragments of paper fell down like flying feathers.

The ironborn were confused and stared at each other, not sure what their king wanted to do.

Euron took the dagger from his belt, touched the tip to the page, and with a slight stroke, the book burst into pieces.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"

With three strikes of the dagger, the thick book suddenly turned into a pile of waste paper.

"It's nothing more than blasphemous garbage!" Euron stepped on it and took off his blindfold, revealing his malicious black pupils. His voice suddenly increased in pitch: "Oldtown is the richest city in Westeros. , the towering tower stands at the top of the world, and it is the center of the bachelor and the seven false gods!"

Euron stretched out his dagger, and the flash of the dagger tip was breathtaking, "Now! The ancient road guides us, conquering this place, conquering the center of the green land, conquering the most shining treasures of Westeros, even these people wearing The old bachelor in tattered gray clothes also gave away countless treasures! In our eyes, these are nothing more than waste paper!"

He pushed hard, and the bookshelf fell backwards, one floor after another, with a roar.

The sound stopped, the silence was brief, and the ironborn's shouts and roars suddenly filled the chamber.

"You" said a trembling voice, just as Euron and the Ironborn looked at the gray-robed bachelor who was trembling slightly at the source of the sound, "These rows of books, ahem! They all have a history of a hundred years, the Citadel. Reincarnation Transcript, Three When the year changes, you...you..."

Deep in the rows of fallen bookshelves, a candle light was dimly lit, and an ink stand for copying books sat quietly here. The old, gray-robed bachelor with shabby temples leaned on a cane and walked closer to Euron step by step.

Euron raised a contemptuous smile on his lips, and the ironborn on the side looked at the maester who was stumbling over jokingly.

"Old man, do you want to die?" The ironborn plunderer shook his axe, narrowed his eyes and pointed it in the direction of the maester.

"I am Dr. Wargrave, from the Citadel. The Doctor from the Citadel. I will be anywhere in Westeros." respect me"

The purple curtain that covers the thick window of the dome droops gently, just like the amethyst in a secret room shining slightly in the dark. Perhaps it is because of the many people walking in the Tibetan room. The curtain is shaking gently, but at this moment, it is the same as in front of the Tibetan room. Like a heavy iron door with a gap of light, it was frozen in time.

The harsh sound pierced the space, and no one's eardrums were stung. A gleam of light came out of the gray robe wrapped around the maester, and penetrated into Euron's body in an instant.

"Bang!" The sound of metal knocking against each other was like thunder in the daytime, exploding from the middle of the Ironborn.

The dagger went out, and Euron stumbled back a few steps. His sleeves were torn, and pieces of white silk fluttered in the air, revealing the black and thin scales.

The face of the maester suddenly changed, and countless faces switched one after another, the face of a man, the face of a woman, the face of a baby, and the face of an old man.

The spears of the guards pierced through the body of the maester.

The corpse was thrown on the ground like a rotten fish, and the Ironborn plunderers stared at all this in amazement. It happened so fast that they didn't react at all.

The face of the maester finally froze on the face of an ordinary man, with a calm face, silently watching him assassinate Euron.

The calmness of facing death, except for some fearless warriors, can only be possessed by the believers of the Thousand-Faced God.

"Faceless." Euron's eyes seemed to fall on the faceless man, but it seemed that he still penetrated the space at the moment and looked at the distant existence.

He took off his coat, revealing a full body of Valyrian steel scales, as black as smoke entwined around him, even his neck was covered.

Euron touched a dent on the scales and twisted his neck, with no surprise on his face, as if everything was expected.

"Is this the only way?" Euron did not have the luck to survive the disaster, but instead showed a hint of disappointment.

"Move the books away," Euron turned his head, "and wait for my order to burn the rest."

"Yes!" The iron race answered in unison.