Chapter 215: Jon

The Andals burst in from outside, and a sudden rebellion arose within the palace.

"Kill!"

A dozen Pentoshi soldiers suddenly drew their swords and stabbed their colleagues beside them.

Thud thud thud--

The Pentoshi soldiers were completely unprepared, and the sudden betrayal was like a massacre. They suffered heavy losses in an instant, falling into pools of blood.

"Hey, what are you doing!"

Someone was both shocked and angry, drawing his sword to counterattack.

However, he was immediately pierced through the heart from behind.

"Ah--"

A long sword penetrated his chest, the tip of the sword protruding from his chest, and he screamed in agony.

…

Suddenly betrayed, the Pentoshi fell into chaos, unable to distinguish friend from foe.

Viserys, witnessing this scene, slightly raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Is this...reinforcements?"

Viserys didn't expect to have his own reinforcements within the enemy's ranks.

Were these the men from the Windblown? Or was this Melisandre's arrangement?

However, while Viserys was surprised, Illyrio, standing beside him clutching his thigh, relaxed slightly. Then he cracked a smile, one that looked worse than crying.

"These are the reinforcements I arranged, Your Grace."

This was the contingency plan Illyrio had prepared in advance.

He had anticipated that there might be surprises at this banquet, so he had arranged for his confidants to infiltrate the Prince's Palace.

This was why Illyrio told Viserys before the banquet started that no matter what happened, he should follow Illyrio's arrangements.

Then Illyrio looked at the other side.

A man with blue hair was wearing earth-yellow armor and white sleeves, and he wore a long, pointed helmet. He was dressed as a member of the Pentos city guard and looked to be about thirty years old.

"Griff, you're late."

Illyrio complained.

"Griff?"

When Viserys heard Illyrio's words, he also turned his head to look at the newcomer.

"Hm?"

Viserys paused slightly, feeling a strange sense of familiarity with this man named Griff, as if he had seen him somewhere before.

But perhaps too many years had passed, and Viserys could no longer remember clearly.

"Sorry."

Griff muttered an apology, but the city guard captain named 'Griff' didn't even glance at Illyrio.

His swordsmanship was excellent, obviously having received strict training. He had been lying in ambush in the crowd and suddenly launched an attack, killing several Pentoshi soldiers with slashes and cuts.

Then Griff turned his head, his gaze fixed on Viserys as he took a closer look, then inhaled deeply and spoke.

"Your Grace."

Viserys, having noticed something familiar about Griff, continued to scrutinize him, but didn't rush to speak.

Griff.

Viserys's deep purple eyes flickered, considering this name.

He placed his longsword, stained with Gregor's blood, on his elbow, clamping it tightly and drawing it out, gently wiping off the blood on the blade.

Snap--

He then sheathed his sword back into its scabbard, finally looking up and calmly asking.

"You just addressed me as the second prince."

"Are you Jon?"

...

"And this 'Griffin,' in the face of Viserys' straightforward question, momentarily altered his countenance.

He hadn't expected the Second Prince to be so sharp, catching even the smallest of slips.

Only the old retainers, those who were once loyal to House Targaryen, and who had served in King's Landing or even the Red Keep, would still address Viserys as 'Your Royal Highness.'

This was a title that had become incredibly distant to him, and there were even fewer people who would subconsciously address him in such a way now.

However, the 'Griffin' subtly changed his demeanor, but still did not openly admit his identity.

'Your Majesty, the situation is dire.'

'Some things can be discussed in detail once we are out. For now, we should focus on breaking out of here.'

'Flee?'

Viserys slightly raised his eyebrows, then calmly shook his head.

'There's no need to flee.'

'What?'

Upon hearing Viserys' words, the 'Griffin' displayed a hint of confusion.

And then, at that moment.

BOOM—

The ceiling of the palace resounded once again with a tremendous sound, as if a gigantic creature was violently battering against the palace.

CRACK—

The sturdy walls and ceiling of the palace cracked instantly, dust and debris falling in a flurry, showering the people of Pentos below in chaos.

'What's happening?'

'Is there something on top of the palace?'

The people of Pentos, now in a state of turmoil, looked up in bewilderment, murmuring in surprise and uncertainty.

They had no idea what was happening outside the palace.

At this moment, the soldiers of Pentos were in a state of utter panic.

They couldn't even differentiate friend from foe, as everywhere they looked they saw soldiers in identical armor engaged in battle.

And the Magisters of Pentos were also in disagreement.

Some were ordering their soldiers to seize Viserys, while others, sensing the inevitable, were attempting to slip out the back door amidst the chaos.

'Quick—'

'Get me out of here.'

Among them was the Magister who had just provoked Viserys, the young man was now profusely sweating, his heart pounding in his chest.

He had a bad premonition.

However, these Magisters who wanted to escape, guarded by their soldiers, hadn't even reached the back door when...

BOOM—

Another violent crash sounded, the impact was like a heavy hammer hitting everyone's heart, causing an involuntary gasp.

Even the slowest to react could now sense that something was terribly wrong.

'Outside—'

But before they could complete their thought.

In the next second.

BOOM!

The palace's ceiling and walls were finally shattered by the violent impact, debris flying everywhere.

A huge section of the wall collapsed, looming over the people below like a giant hand, and in their horrified eyes, it buried those Magisters and soldiers attempting to escape.

RUMBLE—

The rising dust cloud filled the air, causing everyone inside the great hall to cover their mouths and noses, breaking into violent coughing fits.

'Cough, cough, cough...'

'What's happening? What on earth is going on?'

The elderly Magister, surrounded by his guards, couldn't help but ask.

They didn't know what had happened, but suddenly, one side of the palace wall and ceiling had collapsed.

And then.

'ROAR—'

Under the dark night sky.

A low, hoarse roar of a dragon abruptly echoed in everyone's ears.

...