Iron is suddenly accosted by flaming tendrils, slamming him into the wall. The loyalists stand proverbially naked, their weapons meaningless with an Old God in front of them. Aspiring a series of awe-struck gasps, the King was half incased into the stone his people had worked to place so diligently. The shadows in the room grew a considerable amount, be it philosophically or physically. The flames died down, replacing themselves with darkened energy that Korinthine was now sending into Iron. The few that tried to fight Korinthine were burned alive, incinerated on the spot. Iron began to speak: "Listen, Korinthine. I've felt everything you can imagine. I've known pain you couldn't fathom if you tried." Silver tears begin streaming down Iron's face, pouring out from under his helmet. "While my body may be fraying, at least I know my legacy will be remembered in the same Stainless Steel I used to be." The corruption begins pouring out from his body, ripping holes in him & his armour. "Hear! Hear! Thank you all dearly, men. All those you felled in my name shall be remembered just as brightly as you will." He chokes up a little, the dark ooze covering most of his armor, crystals growing on the parts that hadn't been touched. His body fuses with the wall of agony, ripping his now tainted armor off, it becoming part of the mold. "O' Nhaulik: I'm so sorry. I wish I could see you one last time." Korinthine chuckled at the amusing statement. She had always known that Iron would be too kind to fight her first.