Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 189 Archery and Horse Racing - Final

The Herenberg tournament was nearing its end, but the frenzied atmosphere had reached its peak.

Today is the penultimate day of the ten-day event, and all competitions have entered the final, intense stage. The schedule is packed with events, leaving no room for respite.

At dawn, as the first rays of sunlight dispel the thin mist over the riverside, the first event to begin is the horse racing final.

Euron called to his friends Ashara, Oberyn, Arianne, and Tyrion, and together they went to the best viewing spot by the racetrack. At that moment, on the wide track, a hundred horses that had made it to the final were striding proudly, each one muscular, with a glossy coat, exuding the beauty of power and speed.

Tyrion Lannister pointed excitedly at a rider in red and gold attire in the distance, chuckling smugly, "Look! That's one of our Lannister riders! Heh, the family spent a fortune to buy this horse king's descendant from the Dothraki plains for this race!"

Euron crossed his arms, his gaze sweeping sharply over the robust exotic steed. He nodded in approval: "Indeed magnificent, with sleek lines and explosive power that's immediately apparent." His eyes then swept over the entire herd, and he continued, "But look, nearly half of these hundred horses are Reach horses. They're much larger, with thicker bones, and their strength is unparalleled, making them perfect for short-distance sprints."

Upon hearing this, Oberyn smiled with the pride of a Dornish, and replied, "Our Dornish sand steeds are not known for their momentary bursts of speed. Their endurance is extraordinary; they can run for a day and a night on scorching sand without getting tired. That's a tenacity etched into their blood."

The main reason is that out of these hundred racehorses, only one is a sandy warhorse from Dorne.

Euron smiled and replied, "Endurance is certainly crucial, especially in long-distance raids or desert campaigns. But on the racetrack, explosive power and absolute speed are the keys to victory. When it comes to the thunderous impact of a sprint across the plains, the tall and strong warhorses of the river bend naturally have the advantage."

Upon hearing this, Arianne glanced sideways at Euron, a hint of Dornish mockery playing on her lips. "Oh, when did our sea monster become a horse connoisseur? I'd like to hear your opinion. As if your Iron Islands produce any famous steeds? Humph, I know you only have a kind of pony called Harlow, small and stubborn, only suitable for pulling carts and carrying cargo."

Ashara immediately grabbed Euron's arm and spoke up in defense, "That's all ancient history! Things are different now. Euron has already bought a large number of fine horses from the Dothraki plains, and the Iron Islands now have good horses too!"

Arianne immediately gave her an exaggerated, disdainful look and teased, "Oh dear, you've already forgotten your sisters as soon as you have a fiancé and are now desperately trying to help them! Have you almost forgotten that you still have the sand and blood of Dorne flowing in your veins?" The two girls burst into laughter.

Euron watched their laughter and a slightly helpless smile on his face. He explained further, "We did indeed import several hundred grassland horses, but it's been a short time since they were transported from the vast Dothraki grasslands to the windswept, rocky shores of the Iron Islands. They're still adapting to the salty sea breeze and humid climate. Having even one horse reach the finals is already a good start." A hint of barely perceptible pride lingered in his voice as he added, "The Iron Islands also have ten of their most skilled Ironborn riders competing, and one of them has successfully made it to the finals. He's riding a warhorse from the Dothraki."

As he spoke, Euron affectionately patted the neck of his beloved horse, Faruru, beside him. Ever since its defeat in the jousting yesterday, the magnificent steed had seemed rather sullen, its head drooping. "But if my Faruru were to race," Euron's tone was filled with unwavering confidence, "today's race championship would be a sure thing."

"Fa~~ru~~ru~~ru—"

""

As if it understood its master's praise, Faruru immediately raised its head and let out a series of loud and rhythmic hisses, baring its teeth and flicking its mane, appearing extremely excited. Its previous displeasure was instantly swept away, as if it was declaring to everyone that it indeed possessed such strength.

Faruru seemed to understand human speech, which made everyone burst into laughter.

Tyrion swirled his wine glass and interjected, "To be honest, having even one horse in the finals is quite impressive. Look at the North—the mighty North, and not a single horse made it to the finals. But then again, their horses' cold-weather endurance is truly unmatched by any other breed."

In the midst of this lighthearted conversation, a loud bugle call suddenly pierced the sky, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

The riders in the final horse race burst off the starting line like arrows released from a bow, speeding across the plains in a fierce competition for the supreme glory that symbolizes ultimate speed.

Meanwhile, the specially set-up viewing stands in the distance were already packed, the atmosphere solemn and tense.

The archery finals are about to take place here, bringing together top archers from seven countries. There are a total of fifty archers who have entered the finals.

The final rules are extremely strict, fully testing the archers' all-around abilities. Each archer must shoot two thousand arrows, and the competition is divided into two parts: ten arrows on a fixed target and ten arrows on a moving target.

The fixed target was set a daunting two hundred yards away—twice as far as the average archer's maximum range, which is one hundred yards! The archers took turns shooting, with ten chances in total. Missing the target meant zero points, while only a precise hit on the bullseye earned the maximum score of ten points.

Even more challenging is the sudden appearance of moving targets while archers focus on the stationary targets in the distance! Two moving targets glide at high speed along a taut silk line 100 yards away—one from left to right, the other from right to left, their trajectories intersecting and disappearing in an instant. They stop once they reach the end, each moving target appearing only once. The exact timing of their appearance is entirely controlled by the head of the He'an family, who acts as the referee. This undoubtedly greatly increases the unpredictability and difficulty of the competition, requiring archers not only to have extremely long range and high accuracy on stationary targets, but also exceptional dynamic vision.

Quick reaction ability and calm judgment.

The moving target is difficult, but the points are equally considerable; a hit earns 5 points.

Hitting an extra target on a moving target could change the final outcome—which would affect the ownership of the 20,000 golden dragons.

The final requirement is that the match will begin with the first bugle call and end with the tenth bugle call. Each bugle call will increase the psychological pressure on the shooters.

The hum of each taut bowstring and the piercing whistle of each arrow as it left the bowstring gripped the breath of the entire audience. When the arrow struck the bullseye with pinpoint accuracy, a tsunami of cheers and gasps erupted from the stands.

Shortly after the second bugle call sounded—

"Moving target! Look to the left!"

Amid exclamations of surprise, a target rapidly slid out from left to right along the silk thread!

Many archers, who were intently aiming at the stationary target 200 yards away, were caught off guard and their rhythm was thrown into chaos. Some hastily turned their arrows, while others hesitated for a moment and missed their chance. Arrows whizzed past the moving target, drawing sighs of regret.

After the fifth bugle call, a second moving target exploded not far away, shooting out from right to left!

The archers, having already missed their first chance, were even more anxious. In their impatience, their movements became increasingly erratic: they couldn't draw their bows to their fullest extent, and their aim was merely superficial. Arrows whizzed through the air, only to graze the edge of the target and miss, some even flying off the mark and embedding themselves in the mud. Frustrated stamping and gasps from the audience filled the air.

After the ten horn calls sounded in succession, the competition came to an end.

Surprisingly, among the fifty top archers, more than ten were thrown into disarray by the continuous interference from the moving target, failing to fire all their arrows in time, and could only put down their longbows with regret and resentment on their faces.

The judges quickly entered the arena and began meticulously calculating the scores. They first counted and verified the rings on each contestant's fixed target, then carefully searched for arrows scattered in and around the moving target area to assess the more challenging dynamic scoring.

In the end, after tense calculations, Adrian, the hunter from the valley, won the championship of this archery competition with an astonishing total score of 148 points, surpassing all others!

This sharpshooter, who had already shown exceptional talent in the preliminaries, had attracted the attention of many factions. Euron, who greatly admired his calm and precise skills, had privately tried to recruit him, promising him a large sum of money and a high position.

Adrian ultimately chose to pledge allegiance to Lord Jon Arryn, Warden of the East. Euron, who was eager to recruit talented individuals, was somewhat disappointed to have missed out on such a gifted ranged talent.

The final result of the horse race was announced before the cheers for the archery final had even subsided.

The one who won the crown was the Lannister rider, whom Tyrion had strongly recommended, riding the magnificent "Horse King".

That descendant of kings from the Dothraki plains, with its unparalleled speed and endurance, crossed the finish line first like a crimson lightning bolt tearing through the gale, winning thunderous cheers from the crowd.

Euron stood at a distance, his gaze fixed on the "King of Horses," bathed in sunlight. The horse's flowing, undulating muscles and its wild, almost untamed gait as it ran revealed an undisguised awe and envy. Such a magnificent steed was the dream of every conqueror.

Seemingly sensing that its master Euron had "fallen out of love," Faruru hissed unhappily and nudged Euron with its head to remind him of its presence.

On one side of the stands, the Lannister family members were already ecstatic. They held their heads high, their faces beaming with pride, as if this victory had instantly elevated the entire family's status, and even the sunlight seemed to favor their golden lions.

Tyrion waved the stack of betting tickets in his hand, bumped Euron's thigh, and chuckled incessantly, seemingly having won quite a bit this time.

The jockey who wins the horse race final may soon be forgotten, but the horse that triumphs instantly becomes the most dazzling star of the entire event. Its streamlined body, shimmering coat, and pure speed and power attract countless envious glances.

As soon as the race ended, numerous prominent nobles, incredibly wealthy horse merchants, and collectors obsessed with fine steeds flocked to Lannister's camp, eagerly inquiring about the transfer price of this "King of Horses," with each offer more astonishing than the last.

The Lannister family, who had always regarded gold as dirt, naturally rejected all purchase requests without hesitation, even with a touch of arrogance. This steed, a symbol of victory and glory, was far more valuable than money.

Negotiations for the breeding rights of this "King of Horses" then quietly began. Requests from all over the seven countries eager to improve the horse's bloodline and high reservation fees poured in, and the waiting list was quickly extended to several years later.

This champion horse will continue to bring prestige and wealth to Casterly Rock in another way.