Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 298 Blood Sacrifice and Sea Monster

"The wind is getting stronger." Gunthor Hightower jumped off the ship's pedal, and while standing still, he grabbed his smoky gray shawl that was blown up by the sudden wind. He looked belatedly at the Hightower family flag hoisted high by the Oldtown Guard. The white tower with burning beacons was disheveled in the wind, as if it was about to collapse.

Paxter frowned, turned sideways to face Gunthor, and also looked at the torn flag of Hightower in the sky. The few remaining tufts of orange-yellow hair on his head stuck to his head, like wild grass crawling in the hilly wilderness, not daring to show its head.

"The wind from the north is so strong?" He walked towards Gunthor, muttering to himself.

"That's perfect! It will help our fleet to pursue the Ironborn who are fleeing north." Gunthor smiled flatteringly at Count Paxter and led the Count out of the port.

In addition to the wind energy that attracted the earl's attention, Paxter also asked Gunthor about Earl Hightower from time to time. It was probably because he saw the green flames on the towering tower that had not been burning for hundreds of years that he asked frequently. He wanted to know the recent situation of Gunthor's father in order to facilitate the subsequent etiquette negotiations.

Gunthor shook his head, "Father is still the same. Oldtown is still under the management of my brother. After the green fire burned, Beile was even allowed to enter the towering tower." He raised his head and used his hands to block his hair that was blown by the wind, looking at the eerie green fire on the top of the towering tower. "I'm afraid it will be difficult for father to get rid of the title of the old man of Oldtown."

Paxter looked at his young junior with something strange in his eyes. He said nothing and followed Gunthor on horseback through the streets to the castle in the old town.

The wind seemed to be obediently obeying Euron's hands, and Euron could always get the wind direction he wanted.

As expected, Euron was a traitor to the Drowned God. He defected to the Storm God and sacrificed his flesh and blood to the storm in exchange for the direction the fleet needed. The more Aeron thought about it, the sadder he felt. However, his hands fell to the ground, his body was weak, and he was completely powerless to do anything about what Euron had done.

Euron stood beside him, less than half a foot away, holding a wine glass in his hand, shaking it gently to the beat of the oarsman's drum.

Aeron understood that it contained Nightshade Water, a drink that the Qarth wizards captured by the sailors of the Silence often carried with them.

They are all evil gods! He cursed in his heart.

"Where are we?" Aeron opened his cracked lips and looked at Euron who ignored him.

The latter laughed creepily, "We have arrived at their favorite place."

"they?"

Euron shook his head and squinted his eyes at Aeron who moved slightly.

"My dear brother, my most beloved brother, my family, the family I should protect." Euron squatted down, his blue lips were close to the point of almost kissing Euron.

“Euron,” Aeron managed to say, his voice like a thread pulled from the air. “This war is lost. You need…”

"You talk too much." Euron's dagger has arrived, and the cold touch spreads from the tip of his tongue to his spine. For a moment, Euron only feels a tingling sensation on his back.

The blood and pain came faster than the shock. Before Aeron could open his eyes wide, his tongue no longer belonged to him. It fell to the ground, like a sea fish that died of drought and stuck to the deck, with only the wide-open eyes left.

"Woo woo woo!~" A huge horn sounded at this time, creating ripples in the center of the sea and spreading to every warship.

"You're not dead, are you, brother? You can't die for now, you can't die." Euron moved Aeron's face with his hands, left and right, carefully looking at his painful face, and smiled: "Aeroen is very strong, worthy of being the priest of the Drowned God. I wonder if he told you who the Seastone Seat should be passed on to?"

Victarion! Victarion! Victarion! - Aeron could not form a complete word before he fainted, he could only groan, tearing his throat and choking on blood. If blood could write, Victarion's name would be all over the deck in front of him.

"Victarion?" Euron smiled, leaning against the statue of the Iron Maiden, one hand cupped to his chest as if holding the wind, his right eye's gaze wandering, the deep blue seemed to have turned dark as he stared into the distance, his thoughts also seemed to be, "He has always been working diligently and loyal to my orders." "Woo! Woo! Woo!" The horn sounded a lowered sound, the huge black sail of the Silence tightened, and the bow began to turn with the wind.

"How fast." Euron exclaimed. The fleet outpost on Qingting Island had already sent a warning to the rear. The dark blue sails turned sideways as the ships did. The overlapping sails of the warships formed a vast deep blue ocean on the sea, symbolizing the countless vines of the Redwyne family stretching out in this ocean, rushing towards them like waves.

Euron smiled again and told the sailors around him, "Bring the monks, wizards, and red monks we invited, the servants of the gods, to the deck."

He walked over to the dying Faria Flowers. "Pretty face," he kissed Faria's lips deeply, biting off the dead skin with his teeth. "Tempting lips," Euron relaxed his mouth and touched her bulging belly with his hand. "This must be a boy, dear."

Faria couldn't speak, she just sobbed, her tears became heavier, she shook her head, her whole body trembled, and her face was full of fear.

"Don't be afraid, how could I hurt my child?" Euron kissed her forehead, stood up, turned around with a smile, and waved his hand gently. The sailors of the Silence stood in their respective positions with short spears. The soldiers behind them tied up and dragged out the monks, red-robed monks and other priests, and threw them in front of the sailors holding short spears.

The whimpering and drumbeats of the Arbor Fleet were already heard, as was the sound of countless oars breaking through the water. The catapults on the ships were already filled with flints and pottery jars, staring intently at Euron's Iron Fleet.

Euron stood in front of his brother and poured pepper water on him to wake him up. "Aeren," he put his hands on Aeron's cheeks, "After wandering in the East for so many years, only the people of Westeros are not afraid when they see the flag of Silence. Why is that? Because they don't understand."

Aeron was in a daze, as if his body was crawling with water spiders, gnawing at his skin. He was unable to speak and could only stare into Euron's eyes.

The latter whispered in Aeron's ear, "Balon, do you remember, our eldest brother, the great King of the Iron Islands and the North, the true leader of the Ironmen?"

Aeron didn't know what he was going to say, but he stretched out his hand and put it close to Euron's neck, wanting to strangle him.
The corners of Euron's mouth curved up, "I killed Balon."

The words floated lightly, like the wind blowing past his ears, but they did not feel itchy. Instead, they pierced his heart through the ear holes and pierced his chest.

At almost the same time, Euron's dagger pierced Aeron's chest.

Blood, flowing bloodily.

Countless amounts of blood came from the wounds caused by short spears piercing the chests of the priests on the deck, the blood of the Seven Gods, the blood of the Red God, including Aeron himself, and dozens of trickles of blood symbolizing the Drowned God gathered together, covering the entire deck, with blood bubbles bubbling out.

A hole was poked in the abdomen of Faria Flowers, a pregnant woman, and her eyes were gouged out, with their eyeballs rolling onto the deck.

Euron sipped the Water of Nightshade, arms outstretched, facing the fleet of the Arbor.

Deep under the sea, the water is surging and the rocks are shaking.

"What?" Paxter smelled something wrong in the air and asked vigilantly.

"My Lord," the attendant stammered, "the boat, the boat is rocking."

Tentacles with countless suction mouths clung to the hull, smashing the wooden boards and entangled the masts.

"Sea monster, sea monster! It's a sea monster!" There was a soldier who was the son of a fisherman. He told out the legends and superstitions that he had been exposed to since childhood. However, this was no longer a night story, but reality!

(End of this chapter)