Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 230 Old Friend – Edwin Ramirez

Inside the hall, the lights were on and the noise was deafening.

The long table was laden with whole roasted lambs, fish drizzled with rich sauce, mountains of dark bread, and a constant stream of ale and wine.

But all the delicious food and noise were just background noise; what truly attracted everyone's attention was Euron Greyjoy, who sat in the main seat at the far end of the hall.

He leaned back comfortably in the high-backed main seat carved from ebony and sea animal bones, as if he were born to be above everyone else.

After the important guests were mostly seated, he did not get up, but simply tapped his wine glass lightly. The crisp sound strangely drowned out the noise in the hall, instantly drawing everyone's attention to him.

"Gentlemen," he began, his voice steady yet carrying an undeniable authority, "today marks both the end of an old era and the beginning of a new one. Here, I would like to introduce to you the men who will join me in ruling this sea in the future."

He slightly extended his arm, pointing to the man sitting to his lower left with a cold expression and a fierce glint in his eyes.

"My brother, Baron Greyjoy, the bravest warrior of the Iron Islands, his courage and battle axe will clear all obstacles for me."

His gaze shifted to another man, slightly older, with a shrewd face, whose fingers were tapping the hilt of his knife.

"My uncle, Balf Greyjoy, his wisdom and loyalty are the cornerstone of our family's stability."

Next came a giant, as imposing as a mountain, with a face bearing hideous battle scars, and as silent as a stone.

"Dagmore, my capable lieutenant, captain of the Drinking Ship, you are all surely familiar with his strength and fearlessness."

After introducing the core members of the family, he gracefully swung his arm toward the VIP seats on the right.

"This is our esteemed and powerful ally, Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne. His support is as unstoppable as his spear."

Another young nobleman, dressed in fine clothes and with a slightly pale face, tried his best to remain calm.

"And another vital friend of ours, Paxter Redwin, heir to the Redwin family of Greenwood. His fleet will be a great asset to our cause."

Each time a name was introduced, the person whose name was called responded to the gaze of the entire room with a nod, a toast, or an arrogant expression.

Through this introduction, Eulen clearly outlined to all forces an unbreakable new power structure centered on him, integrating the iron will of his family, external support, and emerging forces.

Finally, Euron's gaze settled on a young face that held a fierce air, his tone tinged with approval. "This man was once the illegitimate son of my Uncle Balf. But in the previous battle, he displayed extraordinary courage and merit, therefore, I bestow upon him the surname Greyjoy! From this day forward, he is my cousin, Floyd Greyjoy!"

Floyd Greyjoy—the bastard son who, just days before, had to be called "Parker"—sat stiffly at the table. When Euron's unquestionable voice announced in front of everyone that he was given the heavy and glorious surname "Greyjoy," a surge of heat rushed to his head, washing away all the humiliation and coldness that had accumulated over the years because of his birth.

His eyes instantly turned bloodshot, not from the alcohol, but from an intense, almost tearing emotion within him. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles white from the force, trembling slightly, as if he were using all his strength to suppress the overwhelming excitement that threatened to burst forth. He had humbly fantasized about this moment countless times in his deepest dreams, but that illusory glimmer was always mercilessly extinguished by the harsh reality upon waking.

And at this moment, it actually came true.

That coveted surname, like a burning brand, was personally etched onto his soul by his king and his god. He felt something tightly blocking his throat, unable to utter a sound, and could only nod heavily, almost spasmodically, suppressing all his boundless fervor for Euron, his willingness to die for him, and his indescribable excitement in this silent vow.

From this moment on, he was no longer a rootless duckweed; he was Greyjoy of the Iron Islands, and his bloodline had finally found its anchor of belonging.

Euron slowly sat up on his own, holding aloft a golden goblet filled with deep red wine. His movements were unhurried, yet they naturally drew everyone's attention, and the noise in the hall subsided.

"Raise a glass," his voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to every corner, carrying an undeniable appeal, "for the future of the Stone Steps Islands."

His words fell like a decree.

Regardless of their inner thoughts, everyone in the hall—the fierce generals of the Iron Islands, the Sand Serpent Knights of Dorne, the nobles of Redwyn, the newly surrendered pirates, and the anxious merchant representatives—did not dare to be negligent. They all raised their glasses and drank the wine in one gulp.

Whether it's nectar or bitter wine, it must be swallowed at this moment.

After the drinks were finished, the atmosphere at the banquet suddenly diverged, becoming clearly distinct.

The members of the Iron Islands Alliance completely relaxed. They laughed loudly, slicing the roasted meat with their knives and forks, clinking their glasses, and talking about the exhilarating battle and future plunder. They were noisy and unrestrained, as if the hall were their own private space.

The joy of victory and the fine wine washed over them, and every move they made was filled with the exhilaration of conquerors.

In stark contrast were the representatives of the other factions at the table. They chewed their food as if it were wax, each bite cautious, their eyes darting around, constantly glancing at the expressions of the host and the Iron People around him, fearing that a careless move might bring about their annihilation. For them, the delicious food was filled with unspeakable pressure and fear.

Among this group of "outsiders" who were preoccupied with their own thoughts and had no appetite, only the newly appointed leader of the pirate alliance, Edwin Ramirez, seemed out of place.

Edwin leaned back in his chair, relaxed and even enjoying himself, skillfully using a dagger to pick at the grilled fish. Occasionally, he would glance around, a cryptic smile playing on his lips, as if the undercurrents before him were nothing more than a spectacular show.

Midway through the banquet, Euron Greyjoy offered no further explanation, merely nodding slightly before quietly leaving his seat and entering a heavily guarded inner room at the back of the hall.

A moment later, an Ironborn Guard silently approached Edwin Ramirez's seat and whispered a message.

Edwin raised an eyebrow, put down his wine glass, and calmly rose under the watchful eyes of countless people, both overt and covert, following the guards into the inner room.

The heavy wooden door closed behind us, shutting out the noise from outside.

The candlelight flickered in the dim room. Before Edwin could speak, Euron turned around, his usual aloof expression melting away, replaced by an almost warm sincerity. He strode forward and gave the new Pirate King a firm hug.

"Old friend," Euron's voice held a rare, undisguised admiration, "thank you for getting involved in this mess."

Edwin Ramirez laughed, a relaxed yet sly laugh, as if he had simply changed taverns for drinks: "Just a more exciting stage. You know, I've always loved new adventures." He paused, his tone becoming meaningful, "Besides, to have a man who is about to become the King of the Stone Steps Islands as a friend is an honor, and also an—incredibly worthwhile investment."

Euron released him, his gaze sharpening with anticipation: "Well said. So next, what you need to do is truly—unite those habitually unruly and undisciplined pirates into a single force. A force that understands commands..."

A fist that can be used by me in the future. The future Stone Steps Archipelago needs "order," even if it's the order of pirates.

The two men conversed in hushed tones for a long time in the inner chamber by the flickering candlelight. When the door to the inner chamber opened again, Edwin Ramirez emerged, twirling his meticulously groomed mustache, a knowing, smug smile on his face. He swept his gaze across his pirate companions in the hall, who were watching him nervously, and subtly yet unmistakably made a gesture that signified "victory" and "all is well."

In an instant, all the pirates who had been holding their breath and anxiously awaiting the outcome breathed a long, silent sigh of relief, as if all their strength had been drained away. The smiles that had been suppressed for so long finally returned to their faces.

It seems their new king has secured a future for them.

The noise at the banquet seemed to become a blurred wall.

When a guard clad in Iron Islands scale armor, with a stern face, silently approached the table of the Three Daughters Kingdom delegation, the surrounding laughter seemed to fall instantly. The guard's gaze was like an icicle, piercing General Gustav Drummond.

"General, distinguished representatives," the guard said in a stiff, emotionless voice, "Our lord requests that you come inside for a discussion."

.

This sudden summons was like a cold chain, instantly binding the hearts of several people. Commander Gustav exchanged uneasy glances with the representatives of Tyros, Rees, and Mill, seeing the same solemnity and trepidation on each other's faces.

Marin's dying accusations and Euron's pointed words cast a shadow over their hearts.

They rose slowly, their movements slightly stiff with tension, the expensive velvet and silk seeming as heavy as a thousand pounds.

The surrounding guests pretended to be nonchalant, but their gazes were filled with inquiry and a subtle, almost imperceptible, distance. They followed the Iron Guard, under a subtly silent watchful eye, with an unease akin to stepping into a dragon's den, toward the heavy, unknown door leading to the inner chamber.