Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 235 Inspection

In the stillness of the night, the sea breeze of Silent Bay carries a subtle sense of compromise.

The representatives of the Three Daughters' Alliance approached Euron once more. This time, their faces bore none of the arrogance or struggle of the day before, only weariness and a resigned calm. The leading commander bowed deeply, his voice dry yet clear: "Lord Euron, on behalf of Tyrosy, Rhys, and Mill, we accept all the conditions you have proposed."

Even though they knew Euron was trying to extort money from them, they could only swallow their anger and keep quiet! After all, they couldn't beat him.

Euron's face broke into a satisfied smile. He gracefully raised his hand, gesturing for everyone to rise, his tone as gentle as that of a magnanimous monarch: "Very good. A wise choice. Peace is always in the best long-term interest of each and every one of us."

After reaching the initial terms of conquest, Euron did not let his representatives leave immediately. He acted like a shrewd businessman, only revealing his true merchandise after achieving an overwhelming victory.

He met separately with representatives from the three cities to begin a new round of discussions on "cooperation".

In the secluded room, the candlelight flickered.

Euron stopped mentioning reparations and punishments and instead talked about trade and the future.

He spoke at length with representatives of Tyroth about their world-renowned Imperial Purple dye, extracted from specific purple conch shells through an extremely complex and costly process. This dye, however, made Tyroth one of the most precious and rarest natural dyes in the ancient world, symbolizing supreme power and wealth, and laying the foundation for Tyroth's immense riches. Euron indicated that the Iron Islands and their controlled markets had a "profound interest" in this.

He and Reese's representatives appraised luxurious perfumes and exquisite tapestries, discussing how to transport these symbols of taste and wealth to Westeros and beyond through smoother channels.

He and Mill's representatives focused on the crystal-clear glassware, the highly precise lenses and telescopes, and the equally valuable carpets, screens, mirrors, and lace. He even specifically mentioned the clear, transparent windowpanes that could be sold at exorbitant prices comparable to oriental spices, implying enormous demand.

At the end of each seemingly amicable private meeting, Euron's words would always take a deeper turn. He would use a manner that was almost casual, yet enough to send shivers down the spine of his opponent, to subtly suggest that in the new order of this sea, deeper cooperation meant more. He implied that the Iron Islands wouldn't mind giving special consideration to city-states that were "more obedient and cooperative" in trade, and could even use its influence to "moderately" undermine the interests of the other two cities, thereby supporting a most loyal "partner."

He didn't say it explicitly, but every word was like a soft dagger, precisely piercing the already fragile bond of trust within the Three Cities Alliance. Temptation and threat were cleverly woven into the same web called "cooperation."

Euron Greyjoy never worried that the Three Daughters Alliance would try to rig or delay payment of the settlement. Absolute power is the most reliable contract.

After the negotiations concluded, the fleet returned to Grey Gallows Island. Just two days later, the Three Daughters Alliance's transport fleet appeared on the horizon. These were no longer ostentatious warships, but rather cargo ships with extremely deep drafts, laden with heavy "goodwill."

One after another, incredibly heavy wooden crates, each requiring several strong men to lift, were unloaded and piled up into a gleaming, alluring mountain in the fortress square of Grey Gallows Island. A full million gold dragons—an astronomical sum enough to buy several castles or even a small duchy—delivered on time, in full.

Following closely behind were the representatives from the three cities. Their expressions were solemn, even respectful, as they solemnly presented a formal contract document written in neat handwriting on exquisite parchment, detailing all compensation clauses.

The payment methods and future trade cooperation framework are standardized, complete with all required seals, and impeccable.

Euron didn't even sit down to examine it closely. He simply took the heavy document, a symbol of submission and compromise, and glanced at it as if skimming the surface of the sea. Then, he took the quill from his servant and, without any legal review or consideration of the terms, smoothly signed his name at the end—Euron Greyjoy.

His movements were as effortless as if he were simply signing a routine goods list. He seemed utterly unconcerned about the complex document that might harbor countless legal traps, word games, or future troubles.

In his eyes, anyone who dared to violate this contract, established by his force, would pay a far heavier price than if they had obeyed it. The terms on paper were merely formalities to him. The real binding force always came from the invincible fleet anchored in the open sea and the terrifying behemoths lurking in the depths of the ocean. Moreover, Euron never believed this contract would last long.

After establishing absolute dominance over the Steppes, the Iron Islands coalition did not become complacent with victory, but instead operated efficiently like a sophisticated and ruthless war machine.

Patrol teams composed of longboats began patrolling the now-controlled sea area day and night.

They visited the numerous islands one by one, measuring the land, assessing the ports, and drawing detailed nautical and topographical maps.

The accompanying scribes and scholars busily recorded every detail: the strategic value of each island, the number of troops needed for effective control, the status of the original indigenous inhabitants—whether they were compliant or a potential threat—and most importantly—

What kinds of exploitable resources (whether timber, minerals, or special products) are buried underground?

A ruthless crackdown was also underway simultaneously.

Those scattered pirates who remained on the islands, trying to survive or plunder in the chaos, met their end.

The Ironborn warriors showed no mercy. Wherever they went, people either accepted the rule of the Iron Islands Alliance and became one of them, or were banished from the waters they controlled forever, or had their heads chopped off and piled up as "Crowns of the Sea" to serve as a bloody totem to warn those who came after.

Order is being forcibly implanted into this lawless land in the most ruthless way.

Amidst this bustling scene, Euron Greyjoy displayed an almost languid composure. Instead of engaging in mundane governance, he leisurely rode his sea monster—the awe-inspiring "giant sea spider"—throughout his new kingdom.

As this terrifying creation moved, it resembled a floating, living island covered in spikes and compound eyes. Its hundreds of enormous, cold compound eyes reflected the shattered light of the sky, its grotesque mouth seemed capable of devouring everything with each opening and closing, and its countless sharp, spear-like limbs sliced ​​through the seawater, silently yet bringing an endless sense of oppression.

Euron stood atop this nightmarish creature, like a demon from the deep sea. Wherever he passed, fishermen at sea, sailors repairing their boats on shore, and island inhabitants were terrified. Some collapsed to the ground, trembling like leaves in the wind; others knelt, praying frantically to the incomprehensible being, transforming their fear into a twisted faith.

As far as the eye could see, there was only utter submission and awe. In this sea, not a single gaze dared to meet his eyes, let alone raise any hostile flag. With this tangible terror, he silently proclaimed who was the sole ruler here.