Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 228 The Day of Execution

To ensure the execution ceremony, destined to reshape the order of the Stone Steps Archipelago, proceeded without interference, Euron Greyjoy's will manifested as a cold and clear warning, instantly spreading through countless channels to every island in this sea.

Every ship: "The war is over."

"Keep quiet and maintain peace until the day of execution."

"No one shall cause trouble."

This order was not a discussion, but a declaration. It contained the despairing power demonstrated in the previous bloody naval battle.

The effect was immediate—the Stone Steps Islands, which were originally filled with pirate raids, private fights, and noise, suddenly fell into an eerie, suffocating silence under this unprecedented pressure.

All the ships that received the news, whether they were established forces or just passing travelers, became unusually "well-behaved." They lowered their flags, reduced their speed, and like a silent funeral procession, quietly converged on Grey Gallows Island. The sea lost its usual clamor and conflict, leaving only the monotonous sound of oars cutting through the water and the mournful whistling of the sea wind against the masts.

Even merchant fleets that were merely passing through received an unquestionable order: they must cease all voyages and await the end of the executions on Grey Gallows Island before being allowed to leave. Enormous trade profits were forced to give way to absolute force.

There were no protests, no objections.

In this sea shrouded in the shadow of the "Crown of the Sea" and deep-sea monsters, the instinct for survival trumps everything. After all, compared to any possible loss, living is more important than anything else.

Seven days passed in the blink of an eye.

Grey Gallows Island, an island that was once daunting due to its desolation and history as a gallows, is now experiencing an unprecedented "liveliness." However, this liveliness is not the jubilation of a festival, but a grand gathering of repression and fear forcibly brought together by powerful force.

On the sea, ships gathered, yet it was unusually quiet, like a silent herd of beasts.

The "Three Daughter Kingdoms" alliance, representing the traditional order of the Stone Steps Islands, made their debut. Their allied commander, General Gustav Drummond, dressed in impeccable military attire, stepped onto the island with a solemn expression, each step seemingly carrying the future of the city-state. Following closely behind were the personnel from Tyrosi, Rhys, and Myr, dressed in dazzlingly different attire—Tyrosi's painted silk, Rhys's extravagant velvet and gold chains, and Myr's exquisite embroidery—forming a striking visual array, yet unable to conceal the caution and calculation in their brows.

The famous neutral ground of the Stone Steps Islands, the Silent Bay, a marketplace of desires and secrets, has seen its master, "Black Pearl," arrive as scheduled.

This legendary woman, draped in a black veil as dark as night, possessed a unique charm that combined a graceful figure with a chilling aura; her very presence was a powerful signal. Even more striking was the ship behind her, where a group of stunningly beautiful women in various national costumes curiously surveyed this desolate place. Their presence added an eerie yet alluring touch to this death ritual.

Those pirate captains who had survived the war and chosen to submit gathered in small groups in a corner. Their clothes were varied, and their faces showed a mixture of unease, relief, and bewilderment at the new order. They whispered among themselves, their eyes darting around, cautiously observing the important figures in the room, trying to glean their own future fate from their actions.

More numerous were caravan leaders and wealthy merchants from various factions, forced to remain there. They stood at a relatively safe distance, watching with solemn expressions. To them, this was not merely an execution, but the coronation of a new king.

They are witnessing firsthand the complete transfer of power on the Steps Islands, and are rapidly calculating in their minds the "new tax rates" they will need to pay and the "new rules" they will have to follow when trading here in the future.

Everything converges here, on this Grey Gallows Island, shrouded in the shadow of death and the rising star of power, awaiting the arrival of the ruler and the new era he will demarcate with blood.

Seven days have passed, Gray Gallows Island.

The rough sea breeze swept across the makeshift platform in the center of the island, making a mournful sound.

A massive execution rack, pieced together from fresh timber and old shipwrecks, stands atop the high ground, its shadow appearing particularly eerie in the thin sunlight.

On the shelf, the once invincible pirate king "Bloody Hand" Marin and "Skull King" Mor Bonewhistle, with their hands bound behind their backs, were forced to kneel on rough wooden boards.

They were ragged and wounded, their former arrogance completely gone, leaving only the humiliation of defeat and the fear of their impending fate.

Below the stage, representatives from various factions on the Stone Steps Islands remained silent, quietly observing everything.

Euron Greyjoy slowly ascended the platform.

Euron was not dressed in military attire, but in a simple dark robe, on which the golden sea monster totem gleamed, exuding an undeniable majesty. His gaze calmly swept over the audience members with their varied expressions, like a host scrutinizing his guests.

Euron spoke, his voice not loud, yet strangely louder than the wind, clearly reaching everyone's ears: "First of all, thank you all for coming." Euron's opening remarks were so simple they were almost polite, as if this were really just an ordinary gathering.

Euron's tone turned icy as he pointed to the two kneeling figures behind him: "Secondly, the root cause of this war, which the Iron Islands have waged from afar, lies with these two cowards!" His voice suddenly rose, filled with chilling rage, "They dared to plunder and brutally murder those Iron Islands citizens who had already paid taxes and were under my protection! Such acts are the greatest blasphemy against me, Euron Greyjoy, against the Iron Islands, and even against the Drowned God! Blood debts must be repaid in blood!"

After announcing the reasons for the trial, his voice returned to its calm tone, yet contained an even stronger, more undeniable power.

"Furthermore, now that you have all arrived here, I would like to take this opportunity to announce that the Iron Islands will be officially stationed at the Steps Islands from this day forward."

He paused slightly, allowing the weight of his words to settle in everyone's hearts, before continuing slowly, his words grand yet each carrying immense weight: "We will contribute our strength to maintaining peace and stability in this sea. We will ensure unimpeded trade, eradicate illegality, and establish a new—order." His words sealed the end of the old era and ushered in a new era led by him.

After a brief silence, a burst of applause erupted from the crowd below the stage, which was not entirely heartfelt but incredibly enthusiastic.

The applause started sporadically, but quickly spread, becoming a continuous, surging tide—a testament to awe of absolute power, and a compromise with the instinct for survival.

Amidst the distorted chants of "praise," Euron Greyjoy slowly ascended the execution platform. His steps were steady and composed, as if he were stepping not onto a bloody execution platform, but onto his throne. He stopped before the two kneeling, defeated kings and slowly drew the longsword from his waist.

The sword was elegantly designed yet sharp, its blade gleaming coldly in the hazy sunlight—the sword of "Golden Lion" Shiki, "Sakura Jū". As the renowned sword was drawn, it emitted a clear, resonant hum, as if yearning to drink the blood of its foes.

Euron reached out, not with his knife, but first ripped the rags stuffed in the mouths of "Bloody Hand" Marin and "Skeleton King" Mor Bonewhistle, granting them the right to speak one last time. His voice was calm and even, yet carried a sense of finality: "Finally, is there anything else you wish to say?"

"Skeleton King" Mor Bonewhistle abruptly raised his head, a crazed and ferocious smile squeezing out from his twisted face. His hoarse throat erupted in a guttural laugh: "Ha—nothing to say! I knew this would happen! I just didn't expect—so many 'big shots' to come and see me off! Haha—worth it!"

Upon hearing this, Youlun nodded slightly, seemingly agreeing with the answer.

They didn't give the other person another chance to say a single word.

There were no warning signs whatsoever.

The cold light of "Sakura Ten" drew a beautiful yet cruel arc in the air—so fast that its trajectory was almost invisible.

The next second, Moor Bone Whistle's maniacal laughter froze on his face, his massive head had already left his neck, and his heavy body fell forward.

Euron didn't even glance at the splattered blood and the fallen corpse. He simply tossed the still-twitching head away as if it were a piece of trash, sending it flying in an arc before landing steadily on top of the newly built "Crown of the Sea Corpses."

With a casual flick of his wrist, Euron sent the "Cherry Blossom," stained with warm blood, tracing a sharp arc through the air. The viscous blood droplets on the blade were precisely flung away, dripping to the ground like a broken ruby ​​necklace, striking the dry wooden board and spreading into dark red spots. In the blink of an eye, the legendary sword was as clean as new, its blade gleaming with a cold light, as if it had never been stained at all.

Marin, kneeling to the side, witnessed this scene and, forgetting his own predicament, softly exclaimed in admiration, "A fine knife."

Euron turned his head, gave him a casual smile, and replied, "Yes."

But Marin's next words shattered this eerie peace instantly. He abruptly raised his head, staring intently into Euron's unfathomable eyes, and suddenly burst into deafening laughter, filled with a mad, vengeful satisfaction: "That ship full of Ironborn! I ordered that idiot, Mor Bonewhistle, to ambush and kill them! But—" His laughter abruptly stopped, his voice like a poisoned dagger, turning sharply to the group of richly dressed people at the very front of the stage, their faces already drastically changed, "They were the ones who ordered me to do this!!"

His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the representatives of the Third Daughter Kingdom, especially the Allied Commander Gustav Drummond, and he roared with his last breath, "Commander Gustav Drummond himself gave us the order! He said to hijack those Ironborn ships, kill those Ironborn, and eliminate any future trouble!"

"boom"

Like a boulder thrown into a still pool, the entire arena erupted in uproar, and all eyes turned like arrows toward the delegation of the Three Daughters Alliance.

Commander Gustav Drummond's face turned deathly pale. He abruptly stood up, trembling with extreme terror and rage, and roared without regard for decorum, "Bullshit! He's lying! A mad dog biting indiscriminately before its death!"

Marin stopped looking at him and instead turned to Euron, a sinister smile of relief on his face: "I've said my piece. Kill them."

Euron's gaze slowly swept over the agitated and distraught Commander Gustav, his eyes chillingly calm. He raised "Sakura Ten" again and said to Marin indifferently, "I will verify whether what you say is true or false."

Before the blade fell, Euron left behind his final whisper, like a judgment from the abyss: "In your next life, remember not to oppose the Iron Islands. And never choose me as your enemy!"