Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 239 My Son, Caesar

The midday sun was scorching and direct, pouring onto the wide terrace of the Spear Tower.

Euron was lounging on a comfortable chaise lounge, his eyes closed in respite. Arianne and Ashara lay on chairs on either side of him, the three of them enjoying the rare tranquility and warmth, as if all the conflicts had been temporarily shut out by the tower.

Suddenly, a figure appeared silently beside Euron, breaking the silence.

Euron arranged for the guards to protect Princess Elizabeth, the regretful guest—Victoria.

Victoria's breathing was slightly rapid, her face showing a mixture of tension and anticipation. She leaned close to Euron's ear and said in a soft yet incredibly clear voice that only he could hear, "It's time."

Just four words.

It struck Euron like a bolt of lightning.

He suddenly opened his eyes, and his body almost instinctively sprang up from the recliner. All the laziness was instantly swept away, replaced by an unprecedented tension and urgency.

Ilya is about to give birth!

The Euron had already dashed off like an arrow, leaving only his voice drifting back: "You can come back later, I'm going first!"

Standing rooted to the spot, Arianne Martell, in the instant Victoria appeared and their brief eye contact took hold, immediately sensed the undisguised tension and urgency in her eyes. She instantly understood what was happening inside the tower.

Without the slightest hesitation, Ariane immediately set off, hurrying after Euron in the direction he had disappeared, leaving behind only a brief sentence: "How can I let him go alone! I have to go and see too!"

On the terrace, only Ashara Dayne remained, lying there bewildered. She watched the two figures disappear abruptly, one after the other, her beautiful eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment. She was completely unaware of what had happened, thinking that some earth-shattering event had occurred within the Seven Kingdoms to cause the two to leave in such a hasty and disorganized manner.

The atmosphere in the corridor outside the Sun Tower maternity ward was so heavy it was almost suffocating.

Euron Greyjoy, Arianne Martell, Prince Oberyn, and even the disabled Prince Doran were all seated in wheelchairs and pushed here by servants. At this moment, they were like the most ordinary family members, their faces filled with undisguised tension and anxiety, all waiting outside the tightly closed door.

Inside the door, only the midwife, the experienced midwife, and Victoria, her loyal companion, were allowed to remain. Their low, encouraging voices and urgent instructions could be faintly heard, but the most jarring and heart-wrenching sound came from Eliza:

Martell let out increasingly piercing screams of intense pain.

The sound pierced through the heavy door, like an invisible whip lashing at the hearts of everyone outside. Euron's lips were tightly pressed together, his jawline taut like iron, his hands unconsciously clenched into fists. Oberyn paced back and forth restlessly, each groan fueling his agitation like a wounded tiger, occasionally shoving Euron aside in a huff. Arianne was pale, her hands clasped tightly to her chest, as if in silent prayer. Even Prince Doran, usually so composed, trembled slightly with his hand on the armrest of his wheelchair.

No matter what power or strength they possessed, at this moment they could only stand here helplessly, listening to the suffering of those inside the door, and enduring this agonizing wait.

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely in the extreme anxiety, each minute and each second a laborious crawl through thick honey, heavy and slow. Those outside could only hear the agonizing sounds from within, their hearts breaking, yet utterly powerless to help.

Just as the suffocating wait was about to reach its peak, a clear, powerful cry of a baby, seemingly able to pierce through all the gloom, suddenly came from inside the door!

The sound was like heavenly music, instantly shattering all the tension and unease outside the door.

Almost at the same time the crying began, the tightly closed door was suddenly flung open from the inside. The four people waiting outside could no longer contain themselves and rushed inside almost simultaneously.

Euron Greyjoy's goal was crystal clear; his gaze swept over everyone else, heading straight for the delivery bed.

On the bed, Ilya Martell was as pale as a sheet, her hair soaked with sweat and plastered to her forehead. She looked weak from exhaustion, but her eyes shone with an indescribable maternal glow.

Euron knelt down on one knee by the bedside and, without hesitation, reached out and firmly grasped Ilya's cold, trembling hand. All words seemed superfluous at that moment; their tightly clasped hands conveyed an emotion far deeper than any words could express.

Just as everyone was still immersed in the joy of the newborn's birth and the worry about Ilya's weak condition, Euron suddenly produced a warm ceramic bowl in his hand. The bowl was filled with a richly colored soup that emitted a strange and mellow aroma, its fragrance seemingly containing a vibrant life force, forming a stark contrast to the bloody smell in the room.

Those around him, including Oberyn and Prince Doran, looked at the object that had suddenly appeared in his hand with a hint of doubt, wondering what it was and where it came from.

Sea Pig Hormone Soup – A soup created by Nakayama Ji from One Piece using the transvestite vitality menu, this soup helps quickly restore stamina and enhance physical fitness. It had been stored in Euron's system space for a long time, and finally, it came in handy.

Euron didn't explain. He simply and carefully helped the weak Ilya sit up slightly, letting her lean against his arm, and then patiently brought the rim of the bowl to her pale lips, saying softly, "Drink this; it will do you good."

Ilya looked at him trustingly and took small sips as instructed. The soup was warm, rich, and had an indescribable deliciousness. Even more miraculously, as the soup entered her stomach, a strong warm current quickly spread throughout her body, as if parched land had been nourished by sweet rain. Her body, which had been completely exhausted from childbirth and felt incredibly heavy, miraculously felt its strength rapidly returning, and even her pale cheeks regained a faint hue.

The immediate effect astonished the scholars and midwives who were watching closely.

Euron's meticulous care for Elia and his heartfelt love for her were clearly seen by Oberyn, Arianne, and Prince Doran.

The slight distance and silent resentment they initially harbored towards Euron due to their complicated relationship melted away somewhat in the face of this genuine concern. Although not explicitly stated, the scrutiny and coldness in their gazes towards Euron had softened considerably.

On the other side, the soft newborn had been carefully wrapped in a clean white cotton cloth and a beautiful swaddle by an experienced midwife, with only a rosy and delicate little face showing.

This little creature, symbolizing new life and hope for the future, was carefully passed from hand to hand to Prince Doran, Prince Oberyn, and Princess Arianne. Their movements were exceptionally gentle, as if they were holding the most precious treasure in the world, their eyes revealing the warmth and joy of family ties.

Finally, the child was gently placed back into Ilya's arms. Ilya lowered her head, a soft and contented glow spreading across her pale face, her gaze fixed on the infant in her arms.

Euron remained seated by the bedside, his strong arms gently encircling Ilya's weak shoulders, offering her support. His gaze was also fixed on the tiny life, his deep eyes swirling with emotions—a mixture of the joy of first meeting, the weight of responsibility, the worry for the future, and an indescribable, blood-connected thrill.

Ilya turned her head slightly, a tired yet happy smile on her pale face, and whispered to Euron, "Look, just as you wished, it's a strong boy."

Euron's gaze never left her and the child. He shook his head, his voice low and sincere: "It doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl. For me, the most important thing is that you and he are safe and healthy." This simple wish was more powerful than any grand plan at that moment.

Ilya's smile deepened. She gestured with her eyes to the sleeping baby in her arms and softly suggested, "Then, let's give him a name. It's the father's right."

Euron was silent for a moment, his gaze becoming distant and profound, as if searching through the river of memory. A name surfaced in his mind, accompanied by an incomparably domineering declaration that transcended time and space. He spoke slowly, his tone firm: "Caesar."

He recalled the immortal conqueror from a certain plane of existence, and his famous quote that resonated throughout history, perfectly embodying power and savagery: I came, I saw, I conquered!

This name carries his endless hopes and expectations for this child.