A streaming fountain of black light blazed from the sphere of lightning, striking the dead center of the Sapphire Gate. Too bright to look upon, its power did not destroy that which a touch, rather, it unmade it. Tyrion watched through half closed. eyes as the very fabric of the gate was unwoven. Matter was unraveled like a loose thread in a cloak that snags on a thornbush. Ithilmar, starwood, and sapphires larger than a warrior's fist came apart like snow before the spring, broken down into their constituent fractions and consumed.
Tyrion staggered as the entire gate slumped and portions of its load-bear structure were eaten away by this dreadful power. Vast swathes of the gate dissolved into nothingness as the ball of lightning surrounding the Witch King continued to pulse with ancient magic.