Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 192 A Just Trial – The Death of the Mountain!

The tense atmosphere of the final was like a taut bowstring. At this suffocating moment, Tyrion Lannister quietly found Euron.

Tyrion strained to tiptoe and pulled Euron to a relatively quiet corner, his voice low, urgent, and earnest.

"Listen," Tyrion's eyes gleamed with a complex light, and he whispered, "That Mountain fellow, his left ankle was badly injured when he fell from his horse during the last jousting match. It's been swollen and painful ever since, and it's never truly healed. That's his fatal weakness."

Tyrion quickly revealed the secret, a flicker of undisguised disgust crossing his face. "I hate him. His cruelty is repulsive. Even though he was my father's most powerful and ruthless weapon, I couldn't feel any affection for him." His gaze refocused on Euron, filled with genuine concern. "But I love you, Euron. I consider you a true friend. I dream of sailing with you one day, to see the Shadowlands—you must not die at his hands."

Euron smiled and patted Tyrion on the head. The little dwarf rolled his eyes and quietly left.

Euron's relatives and friends came forward to offer their final words of advice. His father, elder brother Balon, and younger brother gathered around him, their advice realistic and harsh: "Remember, Euron, this is not the time for rash actions. If you can win, fight with all your might; if it's impossible, admit defeat and retreat immediately. Preserving yourself is far more important than pointless bravado." This was the most basic wisdom the Ironborn had learned from the harsh realities of survival.

Ashara Dane gripped his arm tightly, her purple eyes filled with undisguised worry. Unlike a warrior, she couldn't offer tactical advice; all her words boiled down to the simplest and most direct concern: "Be careful—" Her words caught in her throat, her deep worry unspoken.

Arthur Dayne looked at Euron with a knowing smile on his face, clearly having full confidence in his brother-in-law.

But he remained calm and offered a word of advice, revealing the experience of a seasoned veteran: "Don't let anger control you, and don't be impatient. You should know his weaknesses. Be patient, wear him down, torment him. His strength and patience will run out faster than yours."

Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper, leaned against the railing of the stands, a cold, faint smile playing on his lips. His voice, though not loud, carried clearly to Euron's ears, concise and deadly: "Kill that bastard."

Not far away, Princess Arianne Martell and Princess Elia Targaryen stood side by side, watching his match. They didn't say much, but the concern in their similar eyes spoke volumes—more than the glory of winning the championship, they hoped Euron would leave the arena unharmed.

In the stands, Brienne of Tarth stood with her father, Earl Selwyn. The usually shy young girl had mustered her courage and, along with the other spectators, cheered loudly for Euron. Her self-glow followed him closely, filled with undisguised support and anticipation.

Among the many eyes watching this final, there were some familiar faces—Polon, Wenda, and Thoros, who had been defeated by Euron, were also gathered on the sidelines.

They watched the duel with bated breath and mixed emotions. Despite their defeat at Euron's hands, they now sincerely hoped he would win.

This wasn't out of friendship based on the mercy of sparing their lives, but rather with a degree of practical consideration: if Euron were to ultimately be crowned champion, then they could confidently declare to anyone they encountered in the future—"I was merely defeated by the champion of this tournament, and I am still alive."

"Losing to the champion isn't shameful at all," Bronn grinned, arms crossed, echoing the sentiments of the group. To be alive, and to be able to explain one's defeat with such dignity, was a rare feat in this chaotic world. "Besides, I accept my defeat wholeheartedly!" Bronn laughed. "If he hadn't shown mercy, I would be dead."

This not only doesn't damage their reputation, but it also becomes a unique proof of their strength. After all, surviving such a dangerous contest and ultimately reaching the top already demonstrates that they are no ordinary opponents.

Euron stepped steadily into the arena, his icy gaze piercing like a tangible object towards "The Mountain" Gregor Clegane on the opposite side.

The air between the two seemed to freeze, filled with a silent killing intent.

The sound of the horn, like the roar of a steel behemoth, suddenly tore through the clamor above Harrenhal, announcing the official start of this life-or-death duel!

Euron stood facing the Mountain.

Euron slowly extended his crossed swords, while the Mountain heavily raised his terrifying greatsword. Their weapons lightly touched in mid-air, producing a crisp, brief metallic clang, before they each took three steps back, widening the distance between them.

The instant the weapon touched him, a barely perceptible glint flashed in Euron's eyes—the [Power Test Iv1] had quietly activated, and the terrifying data from the Demon Mountain, like cold inscriptions, was instantly imprinted deep within his consciousness:

Gregor Clegane, the Demon Mountain

Power: 42

Agility: 11

Stamina: 46

Spirit: 6

Command: 5

Charisma: 5

This is undoubtedly a terrifying fortress with extremely enhanced strength and stamina; 46 points of stamina is truly terrifying. People say that "The Mountain" is not agile enough, but that is only relative to his massive body, which is nearly three meters tall. These 11 points of agility are actually equivalent to that of an ordinary soldier who has undergone rigorous training, and should not be underestimated.

Demon Mountain let out a beast-like roar, and swung his massive two-handed sword with the force to split mountains and shatter rocks. The sword wind howled, bringing with it gusts of breathtaking gale, as if it would crush everything in its path into dust.

Euron, however, was as nimble and agile as a ghost. He moved swiftly and his figure was elusive, always managing to evade the fatal blows at the last second.

Even with great strength, if you can't hit the enemy, you're just wasting your energy in vain.

The Mountain roared repeatedly, attempting to use his massive size and ferocious attacks to force Euron into a corner, limiting his space to dodge. But just as his all-out horizontal slash was exhausted and new power had not yet been generated, a cold glint flashed in Euron's eyes, and he swiftly lunged forward, narrowly passing under the Mountain's armpit as he swung his sword!

Using the momentum of his charge, he slashed his twin swords in a crisscross motion, leaving two deep, bloody gashes on Demon Mountain's right side.

The Mountain, wincing in pain, turned in fury, but his massive size slowed his movements. Euron wasn't about to miss such an opportunity. He crouched down, his twin blades striking fiercely once more, one slashing hard at the Mountain's left calf, the other digging deep into his back!

Blood splattered out instantly, staining the sand beneath their feet. The Mountain let out a roar of pain and rage, while Euron had already retreated, his twin swords pointing diagonally at the ground, crimson blood dripping slowly from their blades.

Wounded wild animals are often more ferocious, and this is especially true of an enraged rabid dog!

The blood flowing from Gregor Clegane's wounds seemed to further ignite his madness. He let out incoherent roars and wildly swung his greatsword without any strategy, trying to smash the slippery "sea monster" in front of him into a pulp with absolute force.

However, no matter how much the Mountain roared and exerted its power, it could never catch Euron's elusive figure.

The immense frustration caused The Mountain to change his strategy. He stopped blindly pursuing Euron and began to move sideways like a giant crab on the shore, using his massive body and astonishing reach to gradually compress Euron's dodging space, attempting to force him into an inescapable corner of the ring, or simply sweep him out of the designated area.

Euron's face was ashen, unusually calm. He retreated step by step, precisely calculating the distance of each step, until his heels clearly felt the thick line drawn on the sand beneath his feet, symbolizing the limit of the boundary. He had nowhere left to retreat.

Euron simply shrugged dismissively at the impending doom.

In an instant, the blazing essence of fire named Apollo leaped out from his shoulder once more, and as if it had a life of its own, it quickly wrapped around the twin swords in his hands, transforming them into two roaring blades of flame!

Just before the Mountain gathered all his strength and was about to unleash a devastating blow that could sweep away everything, Euron's figure suddenly blurred—

[Naval Type 6 - Shave!]

He vanished from his spot as if by teleportation, leaving only a faint wisp of warm air. The next second, he appeared ghost-like directly in front of Demon Mountain, his burning twin blades slashing across him, the blazing blades precisely tearing through the leather armor on Demon Mountain's chest, leaving two charred, scorching cross wounds on his muscular chest!

The Mountain's unstoppable sweeping greatsword had only been halfway through its swing when its target vanished without a trace. Before he could even retract his strike, Euron, using the extreme speed of Shave, had already darted to his left blind spot once more.

Swish!Swish!Swish!

In the blink of an eye, the burning twin blades slashed down three more times with a speed too fast for the naked eye to perceive! Each blade cleaved deep into the Demon Mountain's thick arm and side abdomen, the flames scorching the flesh with a terrible hiss, bringing a double blow of excruciating pain and physical cutting.

The flames of the Soul-Soul Fruit are the pain that burns the soul!

Euron's three rapid, swift strikes each carried a different intent. The two cuts to his left chest and ribs were more of a matter of adjusting his posture while moving at high speed; though deep enough to draw blood, they were not intended to kill. The third strike, aimed at his shoulder blade, was the one that truly concentrated his full power!

His original plan was to use the sharpness of the Flame Blade and the speed of [Shave] to sever the Mountain's entire left arm in one strike.

But when the scorching blade tore through the leather armor, cut into the muscle, and finally struck the shoulder blade heavily, it brought a terrifying resistance as if it had struck iron and stone!

The bones of the Demon Mountain were harder than imagined. After the blade pierced through the armor and penetrated the flesh, it was stuck by the unusually thick and hard bones and could not go any further.

"Ugh!" The Mountain roared, a mixture of pain and rage, the intense pain fully unleashing his ferocity.

Ignoring the blade still embedded in his shoulder bone, he whirled around with monstrous strength, and the greatsword, with a piercing shriek that tore through the air, slashed horizontally at Euron's waist!

But Euron, seeing his attempt to cut off the arm fail, abandoned all further fighting. He decisively retreated, his figure leaping with ghostly lightness, already precisely positioned at the very edge of the greatsword's attack range. The Mountain's enraged, deadly strike merely grazed the air in front of him, failing to even touch the hem of his clothes.

Like a primordial beast enraged beyond measure, Demon Mountain charged forward once more, recklessly wielding its greatsword with a frenzied, chaotic yet destructive force.

Euron keenly noticed that, due to the high-temperature burning properties of the flames attached to the blade, the three wounds that had previously struck the Mountain were instantly charred and stopped bleeding, with very little blood flowing out.

As the Demon Mountain roared and approached, Euron's eyes flashed with a cold light, and the flames on the tip of his blade suddenly erupted, like a roaring fire dragon, directly attacking the Demon Mountain's face!

The flames instantly engulfed his face, his beard, hair, and eyebrows bursting into blinding flames. His skin sizzled horribly under the intense heat, and the air was filled with the stench of burning flesh.

"Ah—!" The Mountain let out a piercing, painful howl, instinctively freeing one of his massive hands to frantically slap the flames against his face. Euron intended to seize this opportunity to close in and deliver a fatal blow, but the Mountain's other sword-wielding hand, driven by beastly instinct, began to sweep and slash wildly and erratically. The massive blade formed a dangerous whirlwind of death around him, making it impossible for anyone to approach.

Seeing this, Euron stopped and calmly stood still, gazing silently at the terrifying sight of flames burning on the Mountain's face, as if admiring a masterpiece. At the same time, Euron quietly activated another power—[Soul-Soul Fruit - Thundercloud Thor]!

A blue energy body, hissing and crackling with tiny lightning bolts, swiftly coiled around the twin blades, replacing the extinguished flames. In an instant, the twin blades in his hands burst forth with a chilling crackling light; the power of lightning was ready.

When the Mountain finally extinguished the flames on his face with his enormous hand, the sight that was revealed was horrifying. His entire face was burned beyond recognition, with skin, muscles, and even parts of bone fused together, forming a twisted, charred, and blood-oozing horror that was utterly repulsive.

Euron remained completely unhurried. Like the most patient hunter, he began to circle the Demon Mountain, whose movements were further slowed by pain and impaired vision. He no longer sought a fatal blow, but instead swung his twin blades lightly, slowly slicing away.

The twin blades, imbued with the power of [Thundercloud Thor], not only brought the pain of being cut by the sharp blades with each slash across the Mountain's body, but also a strong electric current surged through his entire body, causing his massive body to convulse uncontrollably and his muscles to spasm.

More chilling than the blade and the lightning was Euron's cold, iron-like words. With each wound he left, he slowly recounted a crime: "I heard that your brother Sandor Clegane, just for playing with one of your discarded toys—" Before he could finish, a blade flashed, electricity crackling, "and you pinned him to the fire, burning half his face." Another blade fell, and the Mountain trembled violently. "Now, taste the burning of your face yourself. Do you find it amusing?"

"I heard that you took your father's life with your own hands in order to inherit his title and lands as soon as possible."

"I heard that you strangled your younger sister to death just because she was crying and making a fuss."

"I heard that both of your wives, before and after, could not escape your cruelty and were tortured to death by you."

"I've heard that in your gloomy castle, the lives of servants are worthless. Even a single drop of wine accidentally spilled on you is enough to justify your killing—"

Every word he spoke was accompanied by a slash, as if conducting a bloody trial, carving the deep sins of the Demon Mountain back into his flesh, one slash at a time.

Euron even felt a twisted sense of "admiration" for the Mountain's inhuman vitality.

With over twenty cuts, deep enough to expose bone, an ordinary person would have bled to death or surrendered in agony long ago, but this monster remained standing, showing neither collapse from blood loss nor any sign of surrendering.

That's good.

Euron thought coldly. If the Mountain really chose to surrender at this moment, under the watchful eyes of everyone and bound by the rules of the duel, he really wouldn't be able to do anything to him.

The reason why the Mountain stubbornly refused to surrender was not out of bravery, but because of his beast-like fighting instincts. He clearly sensed that with each blow he took, the lightning power wrapped around the blade that caused him unbearable pain would weaken a little, and the terrible energy that numbed his nerves and destroyed his will was rapidly fading away.

The chilling blue lightning on Euron's twin blades had completely extinguished; the roaring power of the lightning had finally dissipated. Euron remained calm: "The Mountain, do you admit your crimes?"

"Even if I did it all, so what?!" The Mountain raised his bloodied, grotesque face, and from deep within his throat, he forced out a hoarse, hate-filled growl: "Now, I'm going to—kill you! Smash you into mincemeat! Let's see what you can say then!"

Upon hearing this, Euron merely responded with a cold sneer: "What? You think that without that bit of lightning, I can't chop up this pile of rotten flesh?"

During this brief maneuver, Euron had quietly activated the strange self-repairing ability of the Soul-Soul Fruit, consuming the accumulated soul points to instantly restore his physical strength, mental state, and overall condition to full strength.

The Mountain launched a sudden counterattack, his steps still appearing heavy and slow, just as before.

The Mountain's greatsword swung down, seemingly identical to the previous powerful yet predictable attack. Euron mimicked the move, calmly leaping backward to dodge. However, in that instant when Euron's body was airborne and he had nowhere to brace himself—

The Mountain let out a deafening roar, and his massive, mountain-like body unleashed a terrifying speed completely disproportionate to its size, charging forward with a speed that more than doubled! This was a deadly trap he had been preparing for a long time, intended to tear Euron apart completely in mid-air!

"ah--!"

Countless terrified screams erupted outside the arena; everyone thought Euron was doomed.

At the critical moment, Euron showed no sign of panic.

[Naval Type 6 - Moon Walk!]

His figure seemed to be stepping on invisible air stairs, exerting force in the impossible. Instead of falling, he leaped higher and farther, narrowly missing the head of the Demon Mountain, turning his sure-fire killing blow into complete futile!

Moonwalk - Gravity!

As Euron leaped over the Mountain, he descended rapidly, slashing the Mountain's back with a heavy blow that revealed his spine.

[Naval Six Style: Tempest Kick] lv3, Tempest Kick kicks away!

As soon as he landed, he kicked the Mountain in the lower back, sending him flying before he could react and maintain his forward momentum. The moment he touched the ground, his figure blurred again. [Naval Six Styles - Shave!] 1v5, Soundwave - Shave!

He flashed behind Demon Mountain with a speed beyond visual perception. The sound wave effect made Demon Mountain dizzy and his knees bent slightly. Then he suddenly leaped up, looking down from above. He raised his two swords high and, with all the force of his fall and resolute killing intent, slashed down at Demon Mountain's thick, pillar-like neck!

[A single strike to slay the dragon!]

The blades flashed like cold lightning!

Iv3, Iron Cutter! This is a power capable of cutting through even steel!

The Mountain's massive body continued its frantic forward lunge, even staggering forward another step.

However, his hideous head had already detached from his neck, tracing a heavy arc in the air, the shock and rage on his face still lingering.

The next second, scalding blood gushed out like a burst dam from the cleanly severed neck, shooting several feet high and splashing a horrifying crimson in the sunlight. The headless, enormous body remained stiff for a moment before crashing to the ground like a collapsing mountain with a dull thud.

Magic Mountain, die!

The Mountain is dead?

The Mountain is dead!

After this immense shock, ecstasy swept across the entire arena like a tsunami.

Euron won! He is the undisputed champion!

Baron Greyjoy was the first to react. He let out a deafening roar and charged into the arena like a true sea monster, grabbing Euron around the waist and tossing him high into the air again and again with all his might, expressing boundless excitement and pride.

"Euron!"

"The Iron Islands!"

"champion!"

The crowd in the stands went completely wild, shouting the victor's name and the glory of the Iron Islands at the top of their lungs.

All those who had been anxiously worried about Euron let out a long, deep sigh, as if to release all the fear and tension that had been building up.

Asara's eyes were already red, tears mingling with unparalleled relief and joy welling up. She turned and threw herself into her brother Arthur Dayne's arms, her body trembling slightly from the intense emotions she was experiencing.

It was only then that Arianne Martell and Princess Elia realized that their hands, which had been tightly clasped together, were already covered in cold sweat, and they could both feel the almost suffocating tension in each other.

Brienne of Tarth, her voice already hoarse from the frenzied shouting, still tried to let out a cheer.

Sir Jero Hightower, the "White Bull," shrugged, as if he didn't need to announce who the winner was, and quietly left, leaving the celebration to the young men.

This duel is far more than just a clash of power. It is filled with unpredictable flashes of magic, thunderous judgments like divine punishment, and an epic chapter in which ultimate power and extraordinary skill confront pure evil.

Every moment was breathtaking, every attack and defense captivated the heart. Its dramatic twists and turns were enough to leave even the most seasoned bard speechless.

From this moment forward, the name "Euron Greyjoy" will no longer represent merely the Ironborn of the Iron Islands. It will sweep across every corner of the Seven Kingdoms like a storm, be sung in every tavern, discussed around every campfire, and deeply etched into the history of Westeros, becoming an immortal legend to be sung for generations.