The Palace had already descended into chaos.
"The gates have fallen! The Eastern Warlock has broken in!" a soldier cried as he rushed into the Palace in panic.
Prince Bluebeard went deathly pale at the terrible news the soldier brought. His obese body convulsed violently several times, and his eyes rolled back.
He collapsed onto his silk-covered reclining chair and fell silent.
His mistresses immediately began wailing, crowding around the massive body as it rapidly lost its warmth.
Greenbeard felt as though he had been struck by lightning. He seized the messenger by the collar. "Where are the men of the Seven Kingdoms? Why did they betray us?!"
The soldier shook his head in terror. "My lord! It wasn't the men of the Seven Kingdoms. It was that Eastern Warlock! He took on Earl Redwyne's appearance and tricked us into opening the gates. On the walls-he burned so many of our men alive! He's a devil!"
Greenbeard understood the entire plot in an instant, and cold despair seized him.
It was over!
It was all over!
He looked at his younger brother's lifeless corpse, knowing that the throne of the Prince of Tyrosh, along with their rule, had come to a complete end.
"Quick! Ready a ship!"
Greenbeard made his decision at once and turned to flee this place of death. But just as he rushed out of the great hall, he heard deafening crashes from the direction of the Palace gates, the clang of clashing blades, and the dying screams of the guards.
Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
He hastily turned down a corridor leading to a side door, only to hear heavy footsteps rapidly approaching from behind.
Two Dragon Spirit Guardians appeared before him like phantoms, their cold steel hands clamping onto his shoulders like iron pincers.