Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 264 The Frey Family - The Curtain Falls

Marquis Walder Frey's withered fingers traced slowly across the map-covered table, finally settling on the mark representing the city of Lee River. His wrinkled face and eyes gleamed in the candlelight.

Caught between the dilemma of not being able to offend the Mad King of King's Landing, nor being able to confront the massive rebel army head-on, old Walder made what seemed to be the best decision to protect his family.

He decided not to let the northern army pass through his bridge.

But he would never be foolish enough to launch a preemptive attack and clash head-on with the powerful Northern army. His plan was to keep the city gates closed, strengthen the defenses, adopt a stance of steadfast neutrality, and then—leave Eddard Stark's army to stand helplessly by the river below the city, forced to choose the time-consuming and laborious detour.

He wanted to be like a stubborn rock in the middle of a river, letting the current flow around him while remaining unmoved. He would patiently wait until the battle on the battlefield had a clear winner, until the dust had settled on the Iron Throne, before unhesitatingly siding with the victor. In his view, this was the survival wisdom that had allowed House Frey to endure for six hundred years in chaotic times.

But Euron didn't give old Walder Frey the chance to play both sides and sit back and watch the outcome unfold.

A rider from the Ironborn camp, carrying Euron's handwritten letter, traveled north overnight to meet the Northern army led by Eddard Stark, who was struggling with a difficult decision. The letter contained only a few brief sentences: "Do not detour; it will not only waste time, but the Freys are a thorn in our side. Their allegiance is unclear. We must force them to lay low and choose sides before the great battle begins. I have already stationed troops in the south to support you. Head straight for Leh River and force them to open their gates."

If Frey dares to disobey, the combined forces of the two regions will defeat him together.

This letter completely changed Ed's decision. He no longer considered the long and unpredictable detour route, and instead ordered the army to continue south along the King's Road, heading straight for the walls of Lee River.

Euron's intentions were clear and firm: he would not tolerate the Frey family continuing to sit on the sidelines. He wanted to firmly grasp this crucial crossing point, and the way to do that was to force old Walder Frey to make an immediate and clear choice.

Either open the gates and join the rebels, or let Lihe City and its master become sacrifices under the swords of the allied forces.

As Eddard Stark's northern army surged towards Leh River like a gray tide, forming a pincer movement with Euron's Ironborn forces, an Ironborn messenger shot an unsealed letter into the city.

The letter was quickly presented to old Marquis Walder Frey. It contained only a few words, the handwriting sharp as a knife: "You have one day to open the gates and welcome guests, and send troops to fight the Mad King. Otherwise, the day the city falls will be the day the Frey family perishes."

Old Walder Frey's withered fingers, clutching the letter, began to tremble uncontrollably, his entire body shuddering slightly. Extreme anger and fear intertwined, contorting his old face like a dried orange peel.

"Threatening me!?" He crumpled the letter into a ball and slammed it to the ground, his shrill voice distorted with excitement. "Sea monsters and ice wolves—I'll see what they're capable of, to breach my Lihe City, which I've built up over six hundred years!"

He turned to his pale-faced sons beside him, trying to mask his inner panic with a roar, and commanded, "Pass down the order!"

"Lower the drawbridge and close all the city gates! All soldiers, get to the walls and defend! I'll make them bang their heads against the walls until they bleed!"

Behind his fierce but cowardly roar, his eyes, constantly glancing at the endless military camps outside the city, revealed the unspeakable fear deep in his heart.

A light morning mist shrouded the Green Fork River, and a suffocating silence hung over the two armies that had been locked in a standoff all night. Euron Greyjoy rode alone to the moat and looked up at the gaunt figure on the battlements, surrounded by his many sons.

His voice wasn't loud, but it pierced the morning mist clearly, like a cold arrow, and nailed to the heart of every defender: "Old Walder Frey! I'm asking you one last time, will you open the gates or surrender!"

The old marquis on the city wall had a livid face. He leaned forward and spat down at the people below: "Surrender? Bah!"

"You sea monster brat, come and attack if you dare!"

Upon hearing this, Euron showed no surprise on his face; instead, a cruel, almost gleeful smile crept across his lips. He said no more, simply uttering three words as if announcing something trivial: "Then let's fight." With that, he turned his horse around and leisurely returned to his base.

As his figure disappeared into the Iron People's Army formation, the bugle call to attack, like the low roar of a sea monster, suddenly shattered the silence of dawn.

Euron said no more. He raised his hand and waved it gently behind him.

In an instant, the deep, resounding beat of war drums, like the heartbeat of a sleeping giant, boomed from the Ironborn camp, mingling with the charge horns that erupted simultaneously from the Northern army, creating a deathly symphony. Without probing, without holding back, the combined forces of the North and the Ironborn launched a fierce attack on Lihe City from both the north and south, like two surging tides!

The Frey soldiers rushed frantically onto the city walls and the key stone bridge connecting the two cities.

Arrows rained down like locusts from the battlements and the Weihe Tower on the bridge, attempting to halt the Allied advance. However, this dense rain of arrows proved so feeble in the face of the overwhelming onslaught.

Euron's lips curled into a cold smile as he stood on the riverbank, his gaze fixed on the surging Green Fork River, as if silently beckoning.

"Giant Claw King Crab!"

As his deep voice faded, a massive curtain of water suddenly burst open on the river! A colossal creature emerged from the water—a gigantic king crab over a hundred meters long, its carapace as black as the cold iron of the abyss, its jagged bony spikes gleaming with a chilling luster in the morning light. Each of its massive pincers, like a living battering ram, was powerful enough to easily crush the largest warship.

The terrifying creature, known as a sea king, appeared and immediately raised its mountain-like pincers, accurately and violently clamping down on both ends of the stone arch bridge on which Lihe City depended for survival!

"Snap—!!!"

A deafening roar, as if tearing apart the heavens and earth, exploded, as if mountains were collapsing and the ground were splitting! That building, constructed by the Frey family over three generations...

The seemingly indestructible stone bridge, subjected to this pure, brute force, snapped in two like a fragile, withered branch! Broken stones...

Smoke and desperate cries instantly engulfed the entire river channel.

The morale of the Lihe City soldiers crumbled the moment they saw the Giant Claw Emperor Crab. Faced with its overwhelming power, the sturdy stone walls of Lihe City seemed like a child's sandcastle. With just a few powerful strikes, the giant crab claw tore a huge gap in the thick wall, wide enough for several horses to pass side by side, and rubble rained down.

The combined forces of the North and the Ironborn, who had been poised for battle, surged through the breach like a flood bursting its banks, unleashing a deafening roar!

This was the first truly tough battle for the Northern army since their southward march. Long-suppressed anger and the grief of losing their lords (Duke Rickard and Brandon) erupted completely. The soldiers stormed into the city, descending into a frenzy, their eyes burning with the flames of revenge. They killed indiscriminately, their swords flashing, instantly staining the streets and courtyards of Lee River red with blood. The brutal nature of war was on full display in this moment.

After the fall of the Twins, the city was instantly transformed into a bloody inferno.

Amid the chaos, Eddard Stark charged forward, using his body and roar to stop several Northern warriors who were blinded by rage and about to slash at terrified women and children.

"Stop! They're not soldiers!" His grey eyes burned with anger and unquestionable authority. Having grown up in the Vale as Jon Arryn's adopted son, he received a chivalrous education that emphasized honor and protection, which was almost instinctively incompatible with the ferocity displayed by the Northern soldiers driven by vengeful rage.

On the other side, the Ironborn who stormed into the city completely unleashed their innate plundering and killing instincts. They roared, swinging their battle axes at any moving target, whether it was armed or not.

Euron Greyjoy walked calmly through the bloodshed. He neither intervened nor joined in the atrocities committed by either side. As long as the tragedy didn't happen before his eyes, and as long as it didn't affect his strategic objectives, he didn't care. This near-absolute indifference was more chilling than the frenzied killing.

As the shouts of battle gradually subsided, only ruins and piles of corpses remained in the air, thick with the mingled smell of gunpowder and blood. In the post-battle inventory, it was discovered that only a few dozen terrified women and children, along with some tiny toddlers barely tall enough to fit on a table, had survived in this once-thriving castle, hiding in its most secret cellar. Their sobs were the final lament of this fallen castle.

Inside the main hall of Lihe City, the once boisterous and extravagant banquet scene had vanished, leaving only bloodshed and deathly silence. Old Marquis Walder Frey sat slumped alone in his tall lord's chair, like a puppet whose soul had been ripped from its body. He held a glass of murky wine in his hand, mechanically gulping it down, the liquid spilling from the corner of his mouth, mingling with dust and soaking his magnificent robes. He seemed indifferent to life and death, but deep within his empty eyes lay a resigned, utterly despairing acceptance of his fate.

He knew it was all over.

Euron Greyjoy's footsteps trod silently across the ravaged floor as he approached the head table. He looked down at the once-arrogant old marquess, his voice flat and devoid of emotion: "I said, the day the city falls will be the day the Frey family perishes."

Old Walder's cloudy eyes shifted slightly, focusing on Euron's face, and he forced out a twisted, remorseful laugh: "I truly regret—back at the Crossroads, I should have killed you at all costs—"

Euron nodded, as if stating an objective fact: "Yes, you're right. So, I will never make the same mistake as you."

The moment he finished speaking, the long sword "Sakura-ju" in his right hand flashed like a venomous snake, drawing an almost invisible streak of cold light in the air.

A thin red line appeared on Old Walder's neck. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but the next moment, scalding blood gushed out from the severed neck like a long-suppressed fountain, splattering the chair and wall behind him. His wrinkled head then slid off his neck, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. His eyes remained wide open, frozen in resentment.