Children of the Seven Kingdoms at Play, a Tyrant Rises in the Riverlands, Rise and Fall in an Instant

The green flames were still burning.

They were not mortal fire. They held no gradual warmth, no intermingling red and yellow glow.

There was only a pure, sickening green.

Like living fluid, they clung to every brick and stone, every corpse.

They crackled with delighted sounds, as though demons were chewing bones.

House Harford's castle no longer existed.

The fortress, along with the thousands of soldiers within, the brave knights, and the glorious lords, had all been reduced to nothing in that instant.

The only survivors were the Vale reserve troops that had yet to enter the city, along with the West Riverlands army.

The remaining Vale lords were gripped by endless terror.

The soldiers, even more so, had been scared out of their wits by the green blaze shooting into the sky.

They did not know what it was.

They had only watched a mighty city melt in green light, thousands of comrades turning to ash in an instant.

"Heavenly fire! It's heavenly fire!"

A soldier threw down his longsword and fell to his knees, tears and snot streaming down his face.

"Suleiman is the Sword of the Seven!"

"The Father has sent down punishment! We should never have defied the Seven!"

"This is the will of the gods!"

"The Seven are warning us!"

Fear spread madly through the surviving army like a plague.

More and more soldiers fell to their knees, kowtowing toward that sea of green fire and begging the Father for forgiveness.

They trembled, wept, and prayed.

The eyes of several devout fanatics gleamed with madness, with the same green light as the Wildfire.

Howling for atonement, they rushed from the ranks with their arms spread wide.

"We are guilty!"

As if embracing the gods' decree, they charged without hesitation into that sea of destructive fire.