The pillar of light was more blinding than the blazing sun.
It was fire, ice, and lightning all at once.
It was pure energy, a law of destruction that mortals could neither comprehend nor withstand.
The pillar of light descended.
There was no earth-shattering explosion, not even a sound.
Before that absolute light and heat, Stannis's order of Holy Fire Knights, made up of fanatics, vanished in an instant, along with their prized Flame Longswords and God-Blessed Armor.
They were not burned to ash.
They were vaporized.
Erased completely from the world.
The pillar of light lasted for three breaths.
When the radiance faded, a deep, circular crater with glassy edges appeared in the center of the battlefield.
There was nothing inside it.
It was as though a god had scooped a chunk out of the earth with an invisible hand.
Absolute silence fell over the battlefield.
Whether they were soldiers from the Reach or survivors on the fringes of Stannis's army, everyone stared blankly at the enormous crater with wisps of smoke rising from it, their minds utterly empty.
The courage they took pride in and the faith they believed in without question had become a worthless joke before such absolute power.
How the hell were they supposed to fight that?
Stannis Baratheon was still alive.
He had been at the edge of the impact zone, and the terrifying shock wave had hurled him and his horse more than ten meters away.
He struggled to his feet, his black armor shattered in several places, his face covered in soot and blood.
But he felt no pain.
He merely stared blankly at the enormous crater, at the place where his finest, most loyal troops had disappeared.
The flames on Lightbringer, the longsword burning with holy fire in his hand, had