Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 145 Ten Days - The Invincible God of War

The sandy plaza outside the Water Garden has been transformed into a miniature Dorne martial arts exhibition.

Young nobles from numerous Dornish lords, including the Manwood, Corger, Wel, Dart, and Santaga families, took turns appearing, determined to avenge their defeat and wielding a variety of weapons.

This is no longer a contest of mere longswords. You will see swift thrusts of spears, steady parries of shields, and...

A treacherous and unpredictable scimitar, a whip that tears through the air, a whistling meteor hammer, a powerful and heavy long-handled battle axe;

Even the most dangerous close-quarters combat weapon—a wide variety of weapons are on display here, bringing a brand new combat experience with every challenge.

For Euron, this was not just a simple battle of wits, but also an excellent training ground for real combat.

In his encounters with different opponents, he eagerly absorbed experience in dealing with various weapons and fighting styles, constantly integrating it into and improving his own combat system.

His dual-wielding swordsmanship became increasingly refined, and his footwork and movements became more agile and unpredictable when dealing with unusual weapons. He even tried to incorporate his control over Conqueror's Haki into the duel, using bursts of momentum to disrupt his opponent's mind.

The most astonishing moment for the audience was when, facing a powerful and whistling meteor hammer, he neither dodged nor avoided it. Instead, he let out a low shout, and his muscles instantly tensed up like iron—like an iron block!

Euron took the blow with his bare chest!

With a dull thud, like the sound of leather being struck, Euron only slid back half a step before regaining his balance. He gently rubbed his chest, as if he had only been lightly pushed, but his eyes gleamed with the calm light of a successful test. He was personally testing the limits of his body's resilience.

This daily arena has become the best crucible for him to temper himself.

By the third day, the scene outside the Flowing Gardens had completely transformed into a frenzied public competition. Euron's thirst for "points" and combat experience grew stronger, and with each battle, it was as if some warlike blood within him had been activated, leading him to completely break all the rules and restrictions.

The restrictions on identity were first lifted—not only nobles, but lords, mercenaries, rangers, and bastards from all over Dorne, as long as they believed they had some skill, could step forward to challenge.

The barriers of gender and age also disappeared—regardless of gender, whether young and impetuous or experienced, anyone who dared to set foot on this sandy land would have the opportunity to fight Euron.

The scale of the challenge has expanded dramatically.

The original limit of ten shows per day was completely abolished, and replaced by an almost endless series of shows: ten shows in the morning, ten shows in the afternoon, and even ten more shows after nightfall!

From sunrise to when the stars fill the sky, the sandy square is always packed with people.

The sharp clang of metal clashing, the gasps and cheers of the audience, and the resentful gasps of the defeated as they left the stage—these sounds never ceased. Euron, like a tireless martial arts fanatic or a sea monster greedily absorbing combat experience, stood at the center of the storm, facing challenges from all directions and in all shapes and sizes.

On Euron's ninth night in Dorne, the battlefield outside Streamer Gardens was filled with an unprecedented spectacle.

The crowd that came upon hearing the news almost filled every inch of space where one could stand, and the clamor reached up to the high walls of Yangji City.

This unprecedented fervor was all due to the earth-shattering "friendly sparring" that took place at dusk—Euron Greyjoy and "The Red Viper" Oberyn Martell engaged in a thrilling contest, and in full view of everyone, with a brilliant strike, he knocked the fearsome spear from Oberyn's hand to the ground!

Although neither side went all out, making it more like a display of skill and a test of teamwork between top masters, the result was enough to ignite the passion of all the spectators. More importantly, the news had already spread: tomorrow morning, the young master of the Iron Islands, who had been on a winning streak and enjoying unparalleled success, would be leaving. Tonight was the last chance to challenge him; once missed, who knew when another opportunity would arise?

Therefore, the battlefield was brightly lit by torches, and the area was bustling with noise, as everyone wanted to witness this final madness or try to leave their name on the sands of Dorne on this last night.

On the ninth and final night after Euron arrived in Dorne, his attitude underwent a dramatic shift.

His previous deliberate arrogance and haughtiness vanished without a trace. After each clean and decisive defeat of his opponent, he no longer left behind a disdainful back view, but instead took the initiative to step forward, extend his right hand to his opponent lying on the ground, and forcefully pull him up.

Furthermore, Euron would always sincerely praise his opponent's strengths: "Excellent skill! Your footwork is as agile as a rattlesnake in the desert!" or "Amazing strength! That blow just now made my arm go numb!" or "Incredible speed! Like a cheetah pouncing!"

When no one else stepped forward to challenge them, the battlefield fell into a strange silence, with only the crackling of the torches and the sound of the sea breeze.

Euron took a deep breath, walked to the center of the arena, faced all the Dornish warriors and nobles around him, and bowed deeply.

Euron raised his head, his voice clear and sincere, echoing across the battlefield: "Please forgive my rudeness and offense these past few days." His gaze swept over the faces he had defeated and those he had deliberately provoked. "I am about to travel to Harrenhal for the tournament, and I know that formidable enemies surround me. My feigned composure is not out of contempt, but rather a desperate desire to gain more practical experience before the tournament and to witness the true prowess of Dornish warriors."

Euron paused, then continued, his tone tinged with barely perceptible weariness and utter sincerity: "Only by appearing sufficiently despicable can I ignite your fighting spirit and allow me to meet the endless challenges. This is undoubtedly a despicable exploitation, for which I deeply regret. At the same time, I am extremely grateful for your tolerance and generous guidance these past few days. Every contest with you has been immensely beneficial to me."

After the words were spoken, the battlefield fell silent. The hostility and anger that had accumulated earlier seemed to begin to melt away quietly in the face of this sudden sincerity and respect.

Sometimes, the shift in people's hearts is so wondrous; the difference between extreme disgust and heartfelt admiration may be merely a sincere confession. Euron's previous feigned arrogance was so detestable, yet his courage to frankly admit and apologize is so admirable.

There was a time when many people secretly cursed this arrogant Iron Man, wishing he would be devoured by fish as soon as possible.

At this moment, looking at the young man in the center of the field who bowed and apologized, frankly admitting that he had used all of them to hone himself, a complex and indescribable emotion surged in everyone's hearts. It was a sense of realization after being used, but more than that, it was awe of absolute strength and respect for his final choice to be honest.

The hatred quietly dissipated, replaced by a sincere blessing.