Morgor

Aegon's gaze swept over Crow's Eye's corpse on the ground, its expression frozen in horror and defiance.

This man, who had ruled the Ironborn through fear and cruelty and once held everything in his grasp, had seen his authority crumble to dust when the intimidation he prided himself on collapsed before a greater, more fundamental power.

Anything held together by fear was fragile in the end.

His gaze settled on Dragonbinder beside him, bound in red gold and dark steel.

It felt cold in his hand. The twisted runes seemed to pulse faintly beneath his skin, carrying an ominous allure.

According to legend-and Crow's Eye's fate-the price of sounding it was to burn away the blower's life.

For Aegon, who now had "Little Raki," this treasure that could control dragons but demanded a life in sacrifice seemed of limited use, and even dangerous.

Put it away for now. Perhaps it would prove useful someday, but it was certainly not the first choice.

As he pondered, footsteps approached from behind, deliberately softened but still slightly hurried.

"Your Highness," came a slightly hoarse voice, striving to sound respectful, "we seem to have found something beneath that collapsed pile of stones over there... Something like a chest, but it's pinned underneath. We can't get a clear look."

Aegon turned at the voice.

It was Morgor.

The scar-faced mercenary from Myr, who always carried an air of menace.

He had survived too, and even slipped into the crowd that had just pledged allegiance?

A faint alarm sounded in Aegon's mind.

The scene had been chaotic earlier, and he truly had not had time to examine every face.

"Oh? What is it?" Aegon's tone was mild, but his purple eyes quietly locked onto Morgor.

This fellow was still alive, and had come forward of his own accord to report something?

Given the slipperiness and selfishness Morgor had shown before, this was unusual.

His right hand hung at his side in apparent nonchalance, but Aegon noticed a tension in his posture, especially the way his left arm drew slightly inward, as though shielding something.

"I couldn't make it out exactly, but it looked like metal. Perhaps..." As Morgor spoke, he took another small half step forward with feigned casualness, closing the distance.

He forced a look of difficulty and eagerness to please onto his face. "We need you to take a look yourself. Perhaps it's something important..."

Now!

A murderous gleam blazed in Morgor's eyes, and every pretense fell away in an instant!

His left hand, which he had kept tucked at his side, shot upward, revealing an oddly shaped repeating crossbow that gleamed with a dark, cold light!

Its body was short and compact, but its limbs were thick and its mechanism taut-it was the prized crossbow with a three-hundred-pound draw, powerful enough to pierce plate armor!

More deadly still, the head of the short bolt already resting on the string was coated in a thick substance that glowed an eerie fluorescent green and gave off a faint, rank odor.

"Targaryen bastard! Die!" Morgor roared, his voice filled with pent-up, twisted hatred born of his family's blood feud.

Who cared about treasure or mercenary work? Once he killed this silver-haired brat, everything would be his!

That dragon hatchling didn't look like much of a threat either! In a flash, he pulled the trigger!

Twang!

The mechanism snapped, and the bolt became a dark streak too fast for the eye to follow, shooting straight at Aegon's face!

At such close range, against such a sudden attack, an ordinary man could never have dodged it!

But Aegon was no ordinary man.

The instant Morgor's expression changed, every muscle in his body had already tensed.

His exceptionally high Spirit attribute granted him perception and reaction speed far beyond those of ordinary men.

He did not attempt to dodge completely-

The distance was too short, and the bolt too fast.

He merely jerked his head to the right with the smallest possible movement and exquisite precision!

Whoosh-!

The bolt skimmed the silver hair beside his left cheek, its cold tip even carrying away a few strands, before burying itself deep in a scorched stone pillar a short distance behind him with a dull thud, its tail quivering violently.

At the same time, Aegon's movements did not falter for an instant.

As he tilted his head aside, his right foot whipped upward like a viper that had long lain poised to strike, silent yet blindingly fast, landing precisely against the inside of Morgor's left wrist as he held the crossbow!

Crack! A faint sound of fracturing bone.

"Argh!" Morgor grunted in pain as agony pierced his wrist, and his fingers loosened involuntarily.

The heavy crossbow fell from his hand.

But it was not over yet!

Aegon's right leg swept downward from the kick, the top of his foot hooking and drawing down like an iron whip, deftly altering the falling bolt's trajectory.

At the same time, his left hand shot out like lightning. In the instant Morgor's body stalled from the pain and the loss of his weapon, Aegon seized the clothing at his right shoulder and yanked him hard toward his side!

Morgor had never imagined Aegon's reactions and movements could be so fast, much less that he could launch such a fierce counterattack after dodging a fatal shot.

The pull sent him stumbling, his weight pitching forward.

And at that moment, the falling repeating crossbow, already cocked again, guided by Aegon's deft footwork and Morgor's own forward momentum-

With its limbs pointing upward, it pressed squarely against the space between Morgor's chest and abdomen!

Morgor's eyes widened, his pupils filled with disbelieving horror.

He saw the poisoned bolt resting over the crossbow's limbs and smelled the familiar sickly-sweet reek of the poison he had applied himself-only now, it terrified him out of his wits.

Thup!

The force of the fall and the impact seemed to trip the mechanism with a soft snap.

The bolt, coated in deadly poison and meant for Aegon, drove viciously into Morgor's own body at point-blank range!

"Hh... hh..." Morgor's body shuddered violently. His hands tried in vain to cover the wound, but his strength was rapidly draining away.

He looked down at the shaft embedded in his body. Poison swiftly spread around the wound, and icy numbness and searing pain swept through him.

He staggered back two steps and slumped against the cold stone wall.

His eyes began to lose focus as he stared fixedly at Aegon. His lips moved as though he wanted to say something, but only bloody froth with a strange, sickly-sweet odor spilled out.

Aegon slowly settled his stance, watching coldly as the assassin's life ebbed away.

"It seems someone couldn't bear to stay out of the action." His voice was calm, but edged with ice.

He had known revealing his identity would invite trouble, but had not expected it to come so soon.

And why?

Even a viper needed a reason to bite.