Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 199 The Conference Ends

The Harrenhal Tournament came to a close amidst countless whispers and meaningful glances.

As the last flag was lowered from the tower, the participating knights and nobles embarked on their journey home, carrying even heavier burdens than when they arrived.

Before the grand banquet's leftovers had even been cleaned up, rumors were already spreading like wildfire along the King's Road to every corner of the Seven Kingdoms.

Caravans carried stories to and fro, while ravens flapped their wings and flew over snow-capped mountains and long rivers.

In the taverns of King's Landing, in the school of Oldtown, and beneath the gold mines of the Westerlands, people whispered not only about the exciting moments of the duels, but also about all sorts of gossip and rumors, which were even more fodder for conversation than the duels themselves.

The Harrenhal Tournament is etched in history for its unprecedented scale. The number of participating knights, the sheer amount of the prize money, and...

The competition was both fierce and spectacular, unmatched by any of the seven kingdoms. However, even more intense than the clash of spears was the battle for power and ambition that took place here.

When Aerys II made his first public appearance since the turmoil in Duskwood, his appearance horrified the entire assembly. The once handsome monarch was now emaciated, his withered fingers curled like eagle claws, and his eyes burned with an uneasy and obsessive fire. He had publicly humiliated the Duke of Highgarden, threatened the Lord of Stormlands, and even openly questioned the loyalty of the Vale Wardens—his reputation as a mad king was definitively established at this assembly.

The convention began in bloodshed. The infamous Blood Troupe attempted to rape a maid from the Iron Islands. Euron of the Iron Islands chose to fight back. After a fierce battle, the entire Blood Troupe lay dead in their tent. The killer left behind only a laughing sea monster emblem and ordered musicians to play the Flames of Green Pavilion on the corpses. Euron, the second son of the Iron Islands, thus came into the public eye.

The tournament was intense and exciting, but also resulted in numerous injuries. Highgarden heir Velas Tyrell fell from his horse and suffered a comminuted fracture of his left leg, thus ending his knightly dreams and earning him the nickname "Tumor" Velas. Dreadfort's robust heir Domirik Bolton participated in the Seven-Way Tournament to demonstrate his bravery, but the price was that his left arm was severed by Euron of the Iron Islands in the final, earning him the nickname "One-Armed" Domirik.

The most shocking event was the commissioning of fifteen-year-old Jaime Lannister into the Kingsguard. As the blond youth knelt to swear the oath, Lord Tywin Lannister stormed off – this meant the Lannister inheritance had unexpectedly fallen to his second son, Tyrion Lannister, a dwarf whom his father considered a disgrace.

The Mad King's madness didn't stop there. He forcibly designated Ethan Arryn, a distant relative of Lord Jon Arryn, as the heir to the Vale, completely disregarding the Arryn family's bloodline traditions, causing an uproar among the Vale lords.

The exiled Grand Master of the Golden Knights came in person to plead for a pardon and return to his homeland, only to be met with wine thrown in his face and hurled insults at him by Aerys. Finally, in the Tournament of the Seven, the Grand Master was beheaded by Euron Greyjoy, his body severed from his head and forever remaining in Westeros.

Although Euron lost to Barristan Selmy in the semifinals, he and his fiancée Ashara Dayne—the sister of "Sword of the Morning" Arthur Dayne—took their final bow together, becoming the most enviable couple of the night.

The Iron Islands team shone brightly at this event, winning three championships.

In the semi-finals of the individual duels, Euron and the Fire-Robed Monk Thoros's fiery duel brought the tournament to a climax. Their weapons clashed in the flames, and the sparks that flew were as dazzling as shooting stars, becoming the most spectacular footnote to this epic tournament.

Most notably, Euron faced "The Mountain" Gregor Clegane in the final duel. After a thrilling battle, Euron decisively defeated the wicked giant, eliciting thunderous cheers from the crowd.

Finally, there was the epic jousting duel between Ser Barristan and Prince Rhaegar, a grueling fifteen-round battle of unparalleled brilliance. But even more astonishing than the jousting itself was Prince Rhaegar's actions after his victory.

Prince Rhaegar placed the winter rose crown, representing "love and beauty," over his wife, Princess Elia, on the lap of Lyanna Stark, a young woman from the North; Brandon Stark immediately drew his sword and challenged to a duel; Robert Baratheon laughed heartily, yet his anger was palpable; the Mad King Aerys nearly clashed with the North—every detail was repeatedly analyzed and embellished.

The story has spawned countless versions as it has been passed down, but the core has remained unchanged: the unsettling entanglement between dragons and direwolves, and how this duel, like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirred up ripples in the political landscape of Westeros.

Perhaps one day, people will realize that the Herenberg event was never truly over—it was merely the first note of a grand prelude.

Just as Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, had predicted, after this conference, Euron Greyjoy of the Iron Islands became known throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and was known to all.

Some even gave Euron a nickname—"The Blade of Justice".

On the winding southbound King's Road, a peculiar procession is slowly making its way.

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Euron Greyjoy led the way, the sea breeze ruffling his dark hair, his signature confident smile seemingly never fading. Looking back at the Dornish contingent, a satisfied gleam shone in his eyes—

His greatest achievement from this trip south was being able to persuade Elijah to leave King's Landing, a place rife with intrigue and danger.

Every time he looked back and saw Ilya and Rhaenys sitting peacefully in the carriage, a rare sense of accomplishment would well up inside him. Changing the tragic fate of a friend gave him more satisfaction than any honor he had won in the tournament. He gently stroked the mane of his mount, Faruru, and unconsciously hummed an ancient sea song from the Iron Islands, its melody melodious yet tinged with a touch of wildness.

At this moment, Euron was completely unaware that in some corner of Harrenhal, the knights, rangers, and mercenaries who had been defeated by him had already given him a rather unpleasant nickname—"The Blade of Justice." This nickname came from a duel where Euron, like a judge, interrogated the Mountain while simultaneously slashing open his flesh with gaping wounds, and finally beheaded him.

If he knew this nickname, his carefree, sea-breezy smile would probably freeze instantly. After all, even Euron, who seems unconcerned with details, cares about how others perceive him.

Ashara Dayne rode alongside Euron on an elegant grey horse, its coat the color of morning mist. Her long hair was gently lifted by the sea breeze, shimmering like molten gold in the sunlight, with a few strands occasionally drifting onto Euron's dark sleeves before slipping away quietly.

She would sometimes turn her head to exchange a glance with Euron, and they would understand each other without saying a word; at other times she would look worriedly at Princess Ilya behind her, her violet eyes filled with tender concern.

Euron had already informed Ashara of Ilya's impending divorce from Prince Rhaegar on the way, a piece of news that sank Ashara's heart.

She knew what this meant—not only a dramatic change in Princess Dorne's personal life, but also the potential to trigger instability and turmoil in the politics of the Seven Kingdoms.

But what troubled her even more was Ilya's state of mind. As a woman, Ashara could imagine the pain and struggle Ilya was going through. She gently tightened her grip on the reins, secretly resolving to spend more time with this princess who was about to face a great change on the journey ahead.

The sunlight gilded Asara's figure, making her not only as beautiful as a dream, but also possessing the kindness and wisdom to match that beauty. She looked at Euron and asked softly, "Do you think Princess Ilya is really ready to face all of this?" The sea breeze carried away her whisper, but it could not dispel her sincere worry.

"How could we possibly be well prepared?"

Euron nodded slightly, his gaze following Ilya's figure in the distance, the sea breeze gently ruffling the black hair on his forehead. "But I believe that if we give her some time, everything will be alright," his voice was calm and resolute, as if stating a preordained truth, "Time always heals the deepest wounds."

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He reined in his horse, slowing its pace, and rode alongside Ashara. "In the shadow of the Red Keep, she never truly smiled," Euron continued, a sharp glint in his eyes. "Those gilded cages, however magnificent, are still cages. The Dornish sun, the sands of her homeland, are where she should truly rest."

Ashara noticed that when Euron spoke of Dorne, a rare warmth would appear in his eyes, as if he understood better than anyone what that land meant to Elia.

"There," Euron said finally, a barely perceptible smile curving his lips, "she will no longer be anyone's appendage, but will once again be Princess Elia Martell of Dorne."

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled golden light into his deep eyes.

At that moment, Ashara suddenly understood that Euron's insistence on escorting Elia back to Dorne was not only out of friendship, but also because he had seen it earlier than anyone else: some birds are destined to be able to spread their wings and fly again in their own sky.

Silence filled Dorne's ranks.

Prince Oberyn's face was somber, and worry flashed in his eyes as he glanced at his sister Elijah from time to time. Princess Arianne, meanwhile, stroked the reins thoughtfully, glancing occasionally toward the Iron Islands. Princess Elijah, unwilling to sit in the carriage, sat regally on horseback, her expression behind the veil unreadable, only her eyes occasionally revealing a trace of undisguised sorrow.

In this oppressive silence, only little Rhaenys's laughter, as melodious as a clear spring, could be heard. She was seated in the saddle in front of her mother, her silver-gold braids swaying gently with the horse's movements, her eyes brimming with curiosity about everything along the way. When she exclaimed in wonder at the birds flying overhead, her innocent smile seemed to temporarily dispel the gloom in the adults' hearts.

This silent group, each member harboring their own thoughts, marched south, each carrying a different mark left by Harrenhal, heading towards an unknown future.