Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 244 A Crazy Future

Countless torches lit up the hall, the flickering flames making the Greyjoy family's sea monster emblem appear almost alive.

The long table was piled high with grilled seafood, spiced crab, and overflowing beer, but people's attention was clearly not on the food.

Euron Greyjoy's return turned what he thought would be an ordinary family dinner into a noisy extravaganza.

Those warriors who had participated in the Battle of the Stone Steps Islands were invited to take their seats, and after three rounds of wine, they began to reminisce about that legendary battle once again.

Although the war had long since ended, the legend of the eight colossal beasts that rose from the deep sea was still sung by sailors and poets on both sides of the Narrow Sea. Some whispered descriptions of the scene—how the black tentacles entangled the warships, how crimson foam rose on the sea, and how Euron's longships pierced the heart of the enemy fleet like the spear of the sea god.

"Son of the Drowned God!" a drunken warrior shouted, raising his cup, which immediately drew a chorus of agreement.

This name has long been known throughout the seven kingdoms, filling the Iron People with both pride and awe.

Euron, at the center of the vortex, simply leaned against a tall stone chair, his fingertips lightly tapping the rim of his cup. The candlelight flickered in his eyes, yet reflected no emotion. Towards his family, he always maintained that peaceful demeanor, a faint smile playing on his lips, as if those thrilling legends were irrelevant to him, and those fearsome titles were nothing more than a passing breeze.

When yet another nephew excitedly asked about the details of the sea monster, Euron simply patted the boy on the shoulder and instead asked how his recent navigation lessons were going.

Amidst the fervent gazes of the crowd, his eyes repeatedly swept across the hall, confirming the safety of each family member. At that moment, the gentleness in his eyes was completely different from that of the legendary "Son of the Drowned God," who commanded sea monsters and struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. For Euron, no legend, no title, could compare to the peaceful reunion of his family in this sea-breezy castle.

The clamor of the banquet finally subsided; glasses were emptied, and candlesticks were soaked with wax. The guests had long since departed, leaving only Greyjoy, his blood kin, in the dimly lit hall. A sea breeze poured in through the high windows, fluttering the ancient banners that hung there.

The topic returned once more to the mysterious and unpredictable sea monster, the eyes of the younger generation gleaming in the dim light. At this moment, Euron slowly stood up, his previous gentle smile quietly fading, replaced by a deep, almost solemn expression.

"They are not the monsters of legend," his voice was not loud, but it clearly prevailed over the wind and reached everyone's ears, "They are the masters of the deep sea, and the guardians of our Greyjoy family."

He looked around at the faces filled with longing and curiosity, and made his promise.

"I assure you," Euron's tone was steady and powerful, carrying an undeniable weight, "that every member of the family will one day have such sea creature companions. Their power will be connected to our blood."

He paused slightly, his gaze becoming profound, as if looking towards a distant sea: "Right now in Uncle Balf's waters, a colossal beast, capable of single-handedly confronting an entire fleet, is patrolling, obeying his commands. That is proof of our strength, and the cornerstone of our family's future."

Excitement surged forth, overcoming the initial shock. Young Rodrik and Maren nearly jumped from their seats, their faces beaming with unbelievable elation; even the usually composed Victalion relaxed his tightly pursed lips, a burning light flashing in his eyes; Asha grinned, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the edge of the table, as if already contemplating how to harness such power.

At this moment, the entire family is closely united by a promise to be guardians of the deep sea, their eyes burning with the flames of ambition.

"Sea King behemoths, if there's going to be any, it'll be me first. I don't even have any yet!" King Baron slammed his fist on the table, making the wine glasses clang. "Enough!" His roar, like a sudden storm, instantly drowned out all the whispers and excited chatter. "You little brats, are you all deaf? You'll get yours later! Now, all of you get back to your beds! We—" He drew his thick finger through the air, pointing to Euron and a few core relatives who remained, "have serious business to discuss with Euron!"

The hall was immediately filled with reluctant grumbling and dragging footsteps.

The young Greyjoys—Rodrick, Maren, and even Asha—looked back repeatedly, their eyes gleaming with unfulfilled curiosity and resentment, but none dared disobey Baron's orders, and they eventually disappeared into the heavy shadows of the stone steps.

As the last footstep faded into the distance, the hall fell completely silent, with only the mournful sound of the sea breeze.

Baron, Euron, and Coron, who had remained as silent as a rock, exchanged a glance. Without saying a word, they walked together toward the low, shadowy oak door at the back of the hall.

The door hinges groaned softly, swallowing them into deeper darkness, before slamming shut.

Inside the sealed room, the air was stagnant and cold, with only a cheap oil lamp casting a flickering halo on the stone wall.

Lisa's figure almost blended into the darkness of the corner until they approached. She stepped forward, her voice low yet crystal clear: "New news has arrived from Harrenhal. Regarding Ariana Harrenhal, the daughter of the Harrenhal family, the crown of 'Queen of Love and Beauty' was placed upon her head at the tournament held for her months ago. Now, the Mad King has summoned her to King's Landing, ostensibly to be Queen Leila's companion." Lisa's tone was flat, yet chilling. "A hostage is the real issue. And according to the latest intelligence from our sources in the Red Keep—she seems to have become the Mad King's mistress."

She paused briefly, letting this storm-stirring news settle in the listeners' hearts, before continuing, "In the North. Lord Rickard Stark, with Brandon, Eddard, and Lyanna Stark, left Winterfell for Riverrun to arrange Brandon's marriage to Catelyn Tully. But upon arriving in Riverrun, Lyanna disappeared! Her father and brothers are frantically searching for her."

"Later, at the Crossroads Inn, someone saw her with Réga, but the news has not been confirmed."

The light flickered, illuminating three faces, each with a different expression but all equally solemn.

King Balon spat, the ale making his rugged face glow red. "Prince Rhaegar? Seduced the daughter of the Stark family in the North? Elopeed with her?" He scoffed, his voice full of mockery. "He really does something so absurd!"

He looks respectable, but deep down he's just like his crazy old man!

Corren's gaze slowly shifted to Euron, his fingers silently tracing the rim of his glass, his tone flat yet pointed: "Lust is a double-edged sword—aren't some people just as bad at it?"

Euron rolled his eyes, leaning back lazily in his chair with a faint smile. "My romantic entanglements are long gone, no need to worry about them." He casually changed the subject, a sharp glint in his eyes. "Why don't you guess what will happen next if the rumors are true, and the esteemed Prince Rhaegar really did abduct the direwolf's precious daughter?"

Corren paused for a moment, his grey-brown eyebrows furrowing. "The North will go mad. Robert Baratheon, that stag who's taken over the Stormlands—Lyanna's fiancé—will go even mader. They'll do anything to get back at Rhaegar; no one in the Seven Kingdoms can swallow such a humiliation."

“Yes,” Euron’s voice deepened, like the tides rising deep within a cave, “but what if this is more than just a duel or a trial? What if anger burns through reason and ultimately escalates into—war?”

Koren shook his head, looking somewhat hesitant: "It can't be that bad, can it? The Mad King isn't completely senile yet."

Baron, who had been listening to their argument, suddenly waved his hand, interrupting the conversation with an almost ferocious excitement on his face. "Let them fight! Let them fight!" he growled, his eyes flashing with the coldness and greed unique to the Ironborn. "What do we care if they fight to the death! We can just sit on the rocks and watch the show! Maybe—" he grinned, "we can even take advantage of the situation."

The oil lamp cast distorted and magnified shadows of varying expressions onto the stone wall. Euron knew that the storm that would soon engulf Westeros was about to arrive...