That clench.
Was gentle.
It was not a gesture filled with strength.
It was more like crushing a fly that had drifted before his eyes.
Casual and careless.
There was no earth-shattering crash, no world-destroying blaze.
Yet Euron Greyjoy felt an invisible hand seize his heart and wrench it downward!
It was no metaphor.
It was a very real, physical pull!
Beneath his feet lay his prized flagship, the Silence.
The ship, built from dark weirwood mixed with unknown bones and sturdy enough to weather any storm, groaned under the strain.
The hull was sinking.
No, not sinking.
The ice, several meters thick, was forming a massive depression around the Silence!
The ice did not fracture. Like soft rubber, it was forcibly dragged downward by an irresistible force, forming an enormous funnel.
The Silence was wedged fast at the funnel's center, its hull scraping against the ice with a teeth-grating creak.
Lynn was trying to drag them beneath the ice and drown them alive!
"Pull her up! Pull the ship up!"
The Ironborn captains beside Euron finally snapped out of their stupor.
They shouted in terror, trying to secure the hull with grappling lines.
But it was all futile.
That force sprang from a single thought of the man on the cliff.
"Ha... hahahahaha!"
Utter humiliation and despair drove Euron Greyjoy completely mad.
He burst into unrestrained laughter, harsh and shrill.
"Good! Very good!"
"The power of ice?"
"King in the North, you haven't disappointed me!"
Still laughing wildly, he reached up and slowly removed the black leather patch over his left eye.
There was no eyeball beneath it.
There was a bottomless black vortex.
Countless twisted shadows churned and shrieked within it, as though it led to some dimension filled with pain and despair.
That was no eye.
It