Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Euron leaned back in the cold stone chair and closed his eyes. His mind was no longer filled with the simple whispers of the Drowned God or the roars of the Ironborn ancestors. The strange syllables of Valyrian—Hen (noun), Ānogar Zōbrī (God of Saltwater), Dārys (Stone/Lord), Sȳndor (Blood), Valyrio Tegōn (Valirian Blade), Rūklon daorun hen henkirī (Knowledge is the foundation of power), Ryptra (Law), Avy kepā (Oaths as Sand)—intertwined with the destructive prophecies of the Drowned Scrolls, the violent cycles of the Ironborn Chronicles, and the cold logic of the Iron Islands Laws, forming a completely new and unsettling cognitive map.

The Drowned Gods are the cold, abyssal framework; history is the cyclical trajectory of power; and the Laws… are levers written by humans, which can be pried open. Valyrian language, however, is the mysterious key to understanding all of this, and perhaps even reconstructing it.

He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Lisa. She was quietly closing the heavy book, "The Laws of the Iron Islands," her movements gentle yet carrying a sense of finality.

"Valar dohaeris, Lisa," Euron suddenly said in his still somewhat broken High Valyrian, breaking the silence.

Lisa paused for a moment, raised her deep blue eyes that seemed to see right through people, and looked at him quietly.

Euron's lips slowly curved upwards, forming a cold and meaningful arc. His deep blue eyes, like the sea before a storm, were unfathomable. "Valar dohaeris...all mortals must serve. But to whom should they serve? And in what way?... " He deliberately slowed his speech, his gaze sharply locking onto Lisa. "...Is there a word in Valyrian that can answer this question?"

Lisa did not answer.

She simply watched him silently, like a deep, unfathomable sea, its surface calm and still, yet turbulent beneath. In her grey-blue eyes, there was no fear, no panic, only an almost frozen stillness. However, beneath this stillness, Euron detected a very subtle ripple—not a wavering, but more like… a heightened assessment under heightened vigilance. She was like a poisoned dagger hidden beneath luxurious velvet, seemingly harmless, yet instinctively sharpened.

She was fluent in seven languages, her diction precise and elegant, far surpassing that of commoners. The restrained aristocratic air she exuded in her every movement, even amidst the terror of captivity, never completely vanished. Faced with the cruel torture of skinning and severing fingers, and the brutality of the Iron People, she maintained an inexplicable composure. And then there was… the adamantite dagger inlaid with a dull blue sapphire, which she had cleverly concealed, yet Euron had caught a glimpse of in the chaos—a weapon no ordinary maidservant could possess for self-defense; its ancient and peculiar design suggested a symbol of status or inheritance.

All the clues, like scattered pearls, were instantly connected by Euron's exceptionally sharp mind. This little girl, Lisa, who claimed to be from Pentos and whose parents were merchants from Braavos and Ries... her identity was definitely not as simple as she made it sound!

"Hahaha!" Euron suddenly burst into a deep, hearty laugh, shattering the almost frozen silence in the tower. The laughter echoed between the stone walls, carrying a wild, unrestrained air of all-knowing control. He abruptly stood up, his tall figure casting an oppressive shadow in the cramped space, but his gaze towards Lisa was not one of scrutiny or suspicion, but rather a... strange, almost burning excitement.

"Everyone has secrets, Lisa!" Euron's voice was now powerful, no longer the clear tone of a boy, but carrying an undeniable penetrating force, as if proclaiming a truth. "You hide the mystery of your origins, you hide your dagger, you might even hide your...past. That's good!" He took a step forward, closing in on Lisa, but without the slightest hint of threat. Instead, it was as if he were admiring a rare treasure. "Fear? Suspicion? Those are emotions of the weak! The prerogative of salt slaves and land sheep!"

He spread his arms wide, his posture wild and confident, as if embracing the entire world: "I, Euron Greyjoy, am destined for greatness! My ship will sail to seas where even the drowning gods have never set foot! My throne will not be built from this pile of black stones of Pyke Island!" His gaze burned, locked onto Lisa's eyes, which finally showed genuine emotion at his words. "What use is a weeping, subservient handmaiden to me? I need keys! Someone who can open ancient doors, decipher lost scrolls, and understand the whispers of dragons!"

Euron looked down at Lisa, his cold, meaningful smile transforming into pure, almost greedy admiration and ambition: "Your secret? Let it continue to be your armor, your blade! As long as it serves me, serves the great goal we are about to embark on!" His tone was resolute, carrying a maturity beyond his years, an almost imperial composure and confidence. "Your past belongs to the shadows? Then let it remain in the shadows! What I want is your present and future—your brilliant mind, your tongue that speaks seven languages, your hand that holds the dagger! Offer them to me, Lisa! Serve me! And what I can give you is far more than just 'living'! I will give you a place, a place where even your hidden identity pales in comparison! In my story, you will no longer be a nameless prisoner, but… an indispensable chapter!"

His words struck Lisa like a thunderclap. It wasn't merely a pardon or exploitation; it was an affirmation! An affirmation of her value, of her hidden power, even… an affirmation of the legitimacy of her secret existence. This magnanimity, this mindset of viewing secrets as resources rather than threats, completely surpassed Lisa's understanding of the Ironborn—and even most nobles. This was no longer the taciturn boy, but a burgeoning potential monarch with terrifying ambition and astonishing capacity for tolerance!

Conqueror's Haki also played its maximum role at this moment!

Lisa's pupils contracted slightly, and for the first time, a noticeable crack appeared in her composed mask. Shock, confusion, a flicker of being seen through, and… an indescribable tremor ignited by this grand and dangerous vision, intertwined and churned deep within her grey-blue eyes. Looking at the boy before her, radiating an astonishing aura of oppression and allure, she truly realized for the first time that she might have stepped into the center of a vortex far deeper and more dangerous than becoming a salt concubine or a slave. And at the center of that vortex were Euron Greyjoy's eyes, burning with wildfire. The anticipated fear or panic did not prevail. Instead, a dizzying feeling of being forcibly dragged into a grand scheme, and… a hidden and dangerous flame of excitement ignited by that "indispensable chapter."

As the ancient Giscalis said, "Mortal language, mortal questions, mortal answers."

Valyrian Higher Language: "'All men must be served,' I know. To whom they are served, and in what manner... it is up to the servants, and also to the king."

Dothraki: "I have seen many storms, and many Khaleesi (queens). If a storm seeks to destroy a Khaleesi, if a storm seeks to destroy the Dothraki, it will first destroy me!"

Finally, she looked at Euron again, switching back to Common Tongue, her voice regaining its previous gentleness, yet containing an undeniable power:

"Lord Euron, there is no single word in Valyrian to answer your question. For the answer... must be written, not sought." She paused slightly, her grey-blue eyes flashing with wisdom and a hint of barely perceptible challenge. "You seek a key, and I may be one of them. But the value of a key lies not only in what doors it can open, but also in... whether the holder possesses the strength to face whatever may lie beyond—whether it be lost treasure or an abyss that devours everything."

Lisa didn't finish her sentence, but simply bowed slightly, a simple yet ancient and elegant gesture, like a scholar bowing to a potential patron, rather than a maid bowing to her master. "...Then, the answer to 'serving' will naturally become clear, like rocks after the tide has receded. Until then, Lisa...will be the 'key' for you to decipher Valyrian, and...another pair of eyes for you to observe the world."

Her reply ended there. There was no promise of loyalty, no revelation of secrets, yet a clear line was drawn: she saw Euron's ambition and potential, and was willing to temporarily take refuge under his wing, offering her value (language, observation). But she tightly bound her "serving" to Euron's own growth in power and whether he could provide genuine "protection." She implied herself as an observer, an evaluator, not a simple dependent. She accepted the "future possibilities" Euron painted, not his current identity or commands. At the same time, the warning about the "abyss behind the door" was both a reminder to Euron and a re-emphasis on her own value—the door she, the "key," could open might lead to unexpected dangers.

This response, woven from four languages ​​and brimming with wisdom, metaphor, and self-respect, carries far more weight than any simple "yes" or "no." It seemed to freeze the air within the tower, leaving only the clash of their gazes—one of burning ambition and a desire for control, the other of profound wisdom and a conditional willingness to cooperate. The roar of the waves became the grandest background music to this silent game.

Euron slowly clapped his hands, the applause echoing crisply between the stone walls, carrying undisguised appreciation and admiration.

"A storm of words that even the gods have never heard of!" Euron's voice rang out. "The ancient sounds of Giskari, the covenants of Valyria, the fierce winds of the Dothraki... and the sharp edge of Common Tongue's wisdom! Lisa, Lisa... you are more radiant than I imagined!"

"You say the answer needs to be 'written'? Perfect! History is the confession of the weak, while the future… will be rewritten by the strong with iron and fire! You say power needs a 'foundation'?" He pointed sharply to the pile of copied tomes and the Valyrian vocabulary on the margins. "Knowledge? That's just the beginning! I need leverage to move the world! And you say… protection?" Euron's gaze sharpened, staring directly at Lisa. "'The storm will destroy me first'? No! You're wrong! A true storm won't destroy its allies! It will engulf them, empower them, and let them dance on the crest of the wave!"

"The answer to 'service'? It will emerge clearly, little by little, as we conquer seas, decipher secrets, and master powers... It's not that the tide recedes to reveal the reefs, but that we ourselves raise new land... from the abyss!"

"You will be a witness, Lisa!"

He no longer waited for Lisa's reply, as if her cooperation was already a foregone conclusion. He turned and walked to the oak table piled with books, his posture calm and powerful, as if he had just completed an important negotiation and was confident that he had won the most valuable bargaining chip.