Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 299 The War of the Usurpers - The End

Euron walked out of the nursery carrying two still-bleeding heads, leaving a trail of blood that soaked the carpet behind him. Right at the doorway, he met Tywin Lannister.

The two stopped in the narrow corridor, staring at each other silently. Euron's face was expressionless, as if he had just returned from the market, carrying nothing more than ordinary goods. He slowly raised his arms, bringing the two heads to eye level with Tywin's, so that the four empty, stiff eyes were directly facing the Warden of the West.

"They say," Euron's voice was as calm as a frozen lake, "that they were ordered by you to kill a baby less than a year old, and that they were ordered by you to rape an innocent woman."

Tywin's gaze swept over the two familiar yet lifeless faces, his own face as if veiled by a cold, golden mask. "They've misunderstood," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "My order is simple: the dragon race must be eradicated."

"Is that so?" Euron's lips curled into a faint, cold smile. "Then why don't you go in and see for yourself? Dragon Seed, you mean an infant less than a year old? And Ariana Hoan, her clothes aren't even fully on yet."

Tywin's gaze swept past Euron's shoulder, landing on the blood-soaked interior of the room, before returning to Euron's face. His repeated words, like a hammer blow, brooked no argument: "The dragon race must be eradicated!"

Euron casually tossed the two heads to the ground with a dull thud. He wiped the blood off his hands nonchalantly, as if he were merely brushing off a speck of dust.

"I just happened to be passing by, and since I didn't like him, I killed him on a whim." He glanced sideways at Tywin. "You won't hold it against me, will you?"

"No." Tywin's answer was brief and cold, without the slightest hesitation. He didn't even glance at the two heads before walking straight past Euron, as if they were just two bags of insignificant trash.

He walked toward Ariana Hoan, who was slumped in the corner and had already fainted. The light lingered for a moment on her disheveled clothes before falling on the silent baby beside her, whose head had been smashed open.

Tywin removed the heavy cloak embroidered with a golden lion, a symbol of the Lannister family, from his back and used it with unusually steady movements to wrap the infant's frail body. The bright red cloth was quickly soaked with dark bloodstains, and half of the lion's pattern was swallowed up.

He carefully picked up the small body wrapped in a cloak, his movements carrying an eerie solemnity, as if performing some dark ritual.

As the two entered the throne room one after the other, Eddard Stark's furious roar echoed like thunder in the empty hall: "Get down from there, Lannister! That's not your place!"

Eddard gripped the greatsword "Frost" tightly with both hands, its cold tip pointing unwaveringly at the Iron Throne, directly at Jaime Lannister, who sat upon it, his white robes stained with blood.

Eddard's face was a mixture of disbelief, shock, and pure rage. He saw not only the usurpation of the throne, but also the deepest betrayal: a member of the Kingsguard had murdered the king he had sworn to protect.

When Robert Baratheon's imposing figure entered the throne room, the first thing he saw was Aerys's corpse, pierced by a sword, beneath the Iron Throne. He burst into thunderous laughter, which seemed to shake the entire hall.

"Ha ha ha! It's just a chair welded together from scrap metal, Ned!" Robert waved his hand dismissively at Eddard, as if Jaime sitting on it was merely child's play. "What's wrong with letting him sit on it for a bit? Is it going to prick his Lannister ass?"

Then, Tywin Lannister stepped forward and gently placed a small package tightly wrapped in a gold-embroidered red robe on the steps of the Iron Throne, as if presenting a precious gift.

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly froze—the outline of the wrapped object was clearly that of an infant.

Robert's smile vanished instantly, his thick eyebrows furrowing. "Tywin, what trick is this now?"

Tywin's voice was as calm as ice: "Your Majesty, this is a dragon species that must be eradicated. Aerys raped Ariana Hoan, and she gave birth to a wild dragon."

Eddard Stark's hand, gripping "Ice," trembled violently with rage, his voice forced through clenched teeth: "Tywin—it's just a baby!"

"That's dragon blood too," Tywin replied without wavering.

What was suffocating was that Robert remained silent for only a moment before nodding heavily, his voice deep and thunderous: "I didn't see any baby, only the offspring of a dragon."

Oberyn Martell, standing to the side, finally frowned. His narrow eyes narrowed, and his venomous gaze was fixed coldly on Tywin, his face so gloomy it could drip water.

Ed turned to Robert in disbelief, his voice filled with anguish as he questioned, "We swore an oath to protect women and children when we raised our army! Robert! Look at him, he's not even a year old, what crime could he have committed?"

"Innocent?" Robert roared like a wildfire, his voice deafening. "Ned, wake up! No one of the Targaryen blood is innocent! And what about Ryra? Where have she and her little brat run off to? As long as one dragon lives, there will never be peace!"

"Our new king is right, Lord Stark, this is a sacrifice for a new era." Tywin's voice broke the silence, cold and certain: "Queen Leila, her son, and the bastard in her womb have already fled to Dragonstone."

Robert's gaze abruptly shifted to Euron beside him, his eyes blazing with unquenched anger and questioning. Dragonstone, situated high in the sea, was naturally best entrusted to the Ironborn, who controlled the ocean.

Euron simply shrugged indifferently. "I have no interest in sending Ironborn to hunt down a pregnant woman and a nursing baby, and besides, the Ironborn's longships are too far away." He then turned to Tywin with a playful sneer, "However, I imagine Lord Tywin would be more than happy to oblige."

Tywin's face was like a stone sculpture. He met Robert's gaze and made a firm promise: "Your Majesty, I will present you with their corpses—not one less."

This chilling declaration and the death warrant for the Targaryen orphan acted as the final fuse, igniting Eddard Stark's pent-up rage. His fierce debate with Robert over honor, oaths, and revenge erupted before the blood-stained Iron Throne.

Eddard Stark took a leap forward, the tip of his greatsword "Ice" already pointing to the ground, but every muscle in his body was taut with rage. He no longer looked at Tywin, but fixed his gaze on Robert, his voice low and trembling with suppressed fury: "Robert! Look at your feet! Look at this child! We rose up against the tyranny of Aerys, not to become executioners of women and children! Are knightly oaths and noble honor worthless before the Iron Throne?"

Robert's face was flushed red with the smell of alcohol and rage. He waved his thick arms as if trying to dispel the unpleasant thoughts: "Honor? Ned! Can your honor bring my parents back to life? Can it give peace to your father who was burned alive and to my parents who drowned at sea because of his foolish orders? The Targaryens have mad blood flowing in their veins! Every dragon is a curse! They must be eradicated! Don't forget your sister, kidnapped by the Targaryens, and..."

'

“Robert, I know! I know everything! We’re taking revenge on the Mad King, on Rhaegar! But what has this baby done wrong?” Eddard’s voice finally erupted in a painful scream. “He doesn’t even know this world! You’re going to sentence him to death just because he’s a child? What’s the difference between us and the Mad King then? What’s the point of our resistance against tyranny?!”

"The point is that we survived! We won!" Robert roared, pointing at the Iron Throne. "And now, I'm in charge! As long as one dragonborn is alive, there will be those who rise up in their name! Countless lives will be lost! The death of one baby today is to prevent thousands more from dying in war in the future! Do you, your damned Northern honor, understand this?"

Ed shook his head in despair, his eyes filled with a strange pain: "What I understand is that if we water the throne with the blood of infants, then that throne is built on sin from the very beginning. Robert, that will curse your reign, and curse us all!"

"A curse?" Robert let out a bitter laugh. "Ned, my life has been cursed since the moment I watched the crowned stag on my scythe being trampled into the mud! Now, all I ask is that the Targaryen curse ends here!"

Their roars echoed through the empty throne room, one defending his principles of justice, the other driven by deep-seated hatred and the realities of politics. Former comrades, now beneath the iron throne of power, were irrevocably torn apart by a fundamental moral choice. Tywin Lannister watched coldly from the sidelines, while Oberyn Martell's fingers silently traced the serpent-headed lance.

Just as Eddard and Robert's argument was raging like a storm in the throne room, almost tearing apart the newly formed alliance, an old and weary voice broke through, like a dam trying to calm the storm: "Enough."

Lord Jon Arryn walked forward with a slightly unsteady gait. His face, etched with the marks of time, now bore a deep worry. He had been Robert and Eddard's foster father, the cornerstone that united them in their resistance against tyranny. Now, seeing the two eagles he had raised with his own hands now at each other's throats, his heartache was palpable.

He first cast a gentle but firm beam of self-shine upon Ed: "Ed, your integrity and commitment to your oaths are among the most precious qualities of the Seven Kingdoms. No one questions your honor." His words carried the soothing tone of an elder, attempting to quell the Duke of the North's anger.

He then turned to Robert, his voice still steady, but carrying the weight of a king's hand: "Robert, you are the king, and your decisions affect the future of the kingdom. Revenge is a right, but rule requires foresight and—a certain degree of virtue, even if it is only superficial." He skillfully avoided direct criticism, instead implying a political necessity.

"But," Lord Jon's voice rose slightly, his gaze sweeping over everyone present before finally settling on Tywin and the small bundle at his feet, "enough blood has been shed today. King's Landing is burning, the people are terrified. What the Allied Forces need is stability, to witness the beginning of a new era, not to see its creators torn apart by internal strife on the day of victory."

He stepped between the two men, a gesture of profound symbolism. "Regarding Dragonstone, regarding the future, these decisions require a council meeting, a calm mind, not a moment of passion and anger. I implore you," he said, almost pleadingly, "to set aside these disputes for the sake of our shared cause. There are too many things to attend to now."

Jon Arryn's mediation did not directly support either side, but rather placed the stability of the nation and the continuation of the alliance above personal grievances. He reminded them of their shared past and greater responsibilities. His intervention, like a bucket of cold water, while not completely extinguishing the flames of the dispute, at least forced Robert and Eddard to suppress their outbursts of emotion, temporarily easing the suffocating tension in the throne room.

Eddard Stark whirled around, his anger still burning, but fueled by Jon Snow's intervention, it had only grown stronger. "The King's Council?" he said coldly, with the stubbornness characteristic of the North. "You may discuss your kingdom's affairs. I have only one sister to save, and I must go to the Tower of Joy immediately."

Upon hearing this, Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper of Dorne, smiled knowingly and stepped forward gracefully. "Lord Eddard," he said, "the Tower of Joy is hidden deep in the Crimson Mountains on the frontier of Dorne. Without the Son of the Desert to guide you, you would likely be lost in the scorching sun and sandstorms. Perfect, I will go with you."

Euron Greyjoy chuckled softly, as if he'd stumbled upon some amusing coincidence: "What a coincidence, I'm also heading south to Dorne. It's time to go to Starfall to marry my Miss Ashara Dayne. Looks like we can travel together."

Robert opened his mouth as if to say something, perhaps thinking of Lyanna, whom he had once longed for, and wishing to go along as well. But Jon Arryn and Lord Hoster Tully had already subtly grabbed his arms, one on each side.

"Robert," Lord Jon's voice was deep and firm, "you are the king. Your reign is newly established, and everything needs to be rebuilt. Countless eyes are watching you. This place needs you to stand firm."

Robert glanced at his best friend Eddard's resolute retreating figure, then at the devastated King's Landing. Overwhelmed with disappointment and helplessness, he finally let out a heavy sigh, his burly shoulders seemingly collapsing as he could only acquiesce in silence.

Eddard said nothing more, not even glancing at Robert again. He gripped the "Ice" tightly and strode out of the throne room without looking back. Oberyn and Euron exchanged a glance, then followed. The three figures, each with their own purpose, left this place of bloodshed and power struggles, leaving the Iron Throne and new troubles behind.

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