Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 110 Assassin - Are you sure you want to assassinate me in the sea?

Euron Greyjoy's life is as regular as the precise tides.

Every morning, he would sail across the sea to Pike City, where he would learn to handle the complex affairs of the Iron Islands in King Coron's Seastone Palace. In the afternoons, without fail, he would hone his swordsmanship. As the sun began to set, his figure would appear on the white sands of Iron Horse Island, honing his horsemanship and mounted combat skills alongside his warhorse, Faruru. The whistling sound of heavy lances piercing the air became the footnote to the twilight.

As night fell, he would return to his secluded private island, sometimes discussing the secrets of the Lord of Light's flames with the red priestess Gwendolyn, sometimes studying the nature of shadows with the shadowbinder Evelyn, and occasionally stepping into the scholar Qyburn's laboratory, which was filled with strange smells, to examine the research that teetered on the edge of taboo.

However, this evening, as he stepped onto the island's pier, the sea breeze was still salty, and the familiar tower silhouette still stood in the twilight. Yet, an indescribable sense of unease, like a cold spider's web, quietly wrapped around the back of his neck.

It's a feeling of being spied on.

He was intimately familiar with not only the island's inhabitants—Lisa's footsteps, Dagmore's gruff voice, and even the unique energy fluctuations emanating from the two sorceresses.

It was an external, unfamiliar, and extremely covert gaze. It seemed to be everywhere, yet nowhere to be found, like a sea serpent hidden in the crevices of a reef, waiting for him coldly and patiently.

Euron's steps didn't falter in the slightest, his expression calm and composed, but his entire body's senses tensed instantly. His eyes seemingly casually swept over the mottled stone walls of the Ghost Tower, the swaying bushes, and the sea gradually swallowed by the night. Euron's consciousness sank into that strange vision that only he could perceive—the holographic map attached to the [One Piece System] slowly unfolded, and the outline of the Iron Islands shimmered faintly in the void—the red dot representing the uninvited guest remained stubbornly fixed on his island.

Something has already infiltrated. It's lurking in some unknown corner, silently watching his every move.

Euron's mind suddenly focused, but his outward appearance remained calm, and he didn't even change the rhythm of his breathing.

Like the most experienced hunter, he instantly concealed all his presence, as if he were completely unaware of this sudden intrusion.

He continued with his work, whether flipping through scrolls or wiping swords, but all his senses were heightened to the extreme, spreading outwards like an invisible spider web.

With a casual turn and a pretense of looking out the window, he finally caught the unusual detail.

In the deep shadows cast by the courtyard pillars, in the darkness of an abandoned window in a distant tower, there always seemed to be a gaze, like a leech, clinging to his back. That gaze was not constant, but appeared and disappeared intermittently, extremely cautious yet impossible to escape Euron's intuition honed by countless crises.

He could even vaguely sense that the gaze contained not only murderous intent, but also a cold, probing surveillance, as if it wanted to dissect all his secrets.

This eerie spying also alerted another resident. Evelyn, the Shadowbinder, a woman who spent her days surrounded by shadows and dark magic, appeared silently, like a ghost, not far from Euron. She was still shrouded in a heavy black robe and hood, her voice so low it almost blended into the background sea breeze, carrying a chilling echo as if from the abyss.

"My lady," she whispered, her gaze not fixed on Euron, but sweeping across the corners where light and shadow intertwined, "the shadows—are restless. Something—something that doesn't belong here—is spying. It's cautious, almost blending into the darkness."

Her warning confirmed the alarm on the Euron system map and her own perception. An invisible crisis had already quietly arrived.

Euron nodded and said, "Yes, he must be an assassin! A skilled assassin!" He thought to himself, "The Faceless One?"

But it seems not. The Faceless Ones typically use those mysterious human skin masks to lurk near their targets. It seems similar to the tactics of one of our former comrades: observe, conceal, wait, strike decisively, and finally say to the corpse: "I'm sorry."

What a disappointment!

He smiled and bowed to Evelyn, the Shadowbinder with emerald green eyes beside him, saying, "He's probably after me, but it doesn't matter. Let's pretend he doesn't exist and go about our business as usual. He'll come out on his own—."

Looking into Euron's confident eyes, Evelyn, the Shadowbinder, nodded slightly and silently disappeared into the shadows once more.

For the next two days, the assassin remained observant, refraining from action, presumably waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Just as Euron was about to lose patience and decide to cooperate with the Shadowbinder Evelyn to find him, the assassin finally made his move.

As the sun sets, the sea is dyed a tapestry of molten gold and dark purple, much like the evenings after every training session. Euron removes his sweat- and sand-covered clothes and steps alone into the cool water. This is his daily ritual—washing away fatigue in the icy waves and letting his thoughts settle in the boundless sea.

Like a fish returning to its source, he smoothly dived underwater, feeling the familiar touch of the seawater enveloping his entire body.

However, today, this territory that belonged to him was mixed with a discordant impurity. The moment he dived underwater, his superhuman underwater senses detected the anomaly: a clump of seaweed that should have been drifting with the current was swaying with an unnatural stagnation.

A blurry, dark figure, concealed by a large sheepskin air bladder like poison clinging to a reef, lurked in the slightly deeper waters, holding its breath. In the assassin's hand, a short blade with a blood groove, perfect for underwater assassination, was gripped tightly.

He believed he had chosen the best ambush location, taking advantage of a moment when human instincts were relaxed.

But he made a fatal mistake—he had no idea what he was facing.

For Euron, who possesses the blood of the Grey Sea King, the sea is not an obstacle, but a source of power. Underwater, his strength and agility far surpass those on land; the current is his ally, not an obstacle; and what he has in abundance is time—he can breathe freely underwater.

The assassin's attack appeared clumsy and slow underwater, but the trajectory of the deadly dagger was as clear as a slow dance to Euron's perception.

Continuous stabbing...:

Euron didn't even activate his paper drawing; he easily dodged the attack simply by relying on his unparalleled swimming skills.

The assassin dived down to pursue him, relying on his weapon, while Euron was unarmed, having neither weapons nor underwater breathing aids.

Euron leaned back leisurely, laughing lightly without showing any panic. He simply turned gracefully to the side, as if the water was actively pushing him to avoid the fatal blow. Then, he threw a punch, and the water formed a vortex in front of his fist, swirling towards the assassin.

[Skill - Fishman Karate Lv3]

Murloc Karate - Iv3: Condenses water element to form a hard punch wind, dealing penetrating physical damage to a single target, with a 1-second knockback effect and a 3-second water vortex control effect.

The assassin's eyes widened in horror, his body involuntarily spinning, bubbles gushing frantically from his mouth.

He tried to struggle, adjusting his posture to attack again, but it was too late. Euron's arm shot out swiftly like a sea serpent, precisely gripping the assassin's wrist. With a slight exertion, the faint sound of bones dislocating was swallowed by the seawater, and the short blade slid silently into the deep darkness.

The assassin was utterly panicked. The sheepskin air bladder he relied on for concealment was ripped off, and icy saltwater instantly flooded his mouth and nose. He struggled desperately, but felt as if he were fighting against the entire ocean. Euron's other hand, like an iron clamp, firmly held him, coldly dragging him towards the sea, neither allowing him to break free nor letting him drown immediately.

"Splash!"

Euron emerged from the water, his other hand dragging the assassin, who was coughing violently and choking like a fish out of water. The moonlight illuminated Euron's expressionless face and the assassin's face, contorted with suffocation and fear.

Euron threw the semi-conscious assassins onto the cold, pebble beach, seawater dripping down their bodies.

The assassin's fate was sealed the moment he chose Euron as his underwater target. Now, he faces an interrogation far more severe than drowning.

: