Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 322 What to give as a return gift? -- A hammer!

Euron is about to depart for King's Landing to attend Robert's coronation and wedding.

He stood by the window of Ironwind Keep, gazing at the surging sea outside, his thoughts drifting back to his wedding day—

The generous gift Robert sent from afar—a complete dragon skeleton with a dark, gleaming sheen—is still treasured deep within the family vault.

He will always remember this kindness.

"It's time to prepare a return gift," he muttered to himself.

Several days later, Euron appeared on Ironsmoke Island, the island of blacksmiths.

The deafening clanging of iron and the scorching heat rushed towards him, but he paid no attention and walked straight to the deepest forging workshop.

There, Marvin Stephens, the administrator of Ironsmoke Island, and Atticus Whitney, who were also the world's best blacksmiths, quietly awaited Euron's orders.

Marvin Stephens drew up the designs and made the molds according to Euron's ideas, while Atticus Whitney personally wielded the hammer to forge them. They were both brought back by Euron from Corhol, the best blacksmith across the Narrow Sea.

"Thicken it up here," Euron said, pointing to the joint of the warhammer. His voice remained clear even amidst the clanging of the hammer. "The hammerhead must be made of the finest steel, and the center of gravity must be shifted forward by three-tenths of an inch to withstand more force." The firelight illuminated his deep-set face, revealing the precise design he had devised for this special gift.

Euron was not just creating a divine weapon, but a powerful symbol that perfectly matched Robert's fighting style.

Inside the deepest forging workshop on Iron Smoke Island, the furnace fire burns year-round.

An old blacksmith, a master of the ancient Valyrian steel-forging techniques, under Euron's personal supervision, threw meteorite iron from the stars and deep-sea iron from the ocean trenches into the fires of the earth's core. After thousands of folds and tens of thousands of forgings, removing all impurities, the resulting steel had a density far exceeding that of ordinary iron. Although it lacked the magical properties of Valyrian steel, its toughness reached the pinnacle of ordinary iron, and it would not easily be damaged even in a direct confrontation with legendary magical weapons.

The warhammer was forged from a single piece of this special steel, with a hammerhead weighing ninety-nine pounds, making it impossible for an ordinary person to lift. The main surface is a perfectly round hammerhead the size of a millstone, covered with fine and deep diamond-shaped marks, each one resembling a battle scar carved by a giant with his fingernail into steel, ferocious and full of power.

The secondary side, contrary to convention, is not the traditional blunt side, but forged into a sharpened triangular armor-piercing cone. On the cone, the old blacksmith used a lost technique to carve ancient Valyrian runes—"Bonebreaker." A blacksmith who did not believe in its power once used it to strike a thick steel shield. With just one strike, the hammer and cone plucked a terrible groove half a foot deep into the shield's surface, and the broken steel edge curled up as if it had been boiled in water.

At the very center of the hammerhead is embossed the side profile of the crowned stag, the emblem of House Baratheon, its lines sharp and taut. The stag's eyes are inlaid with two dark red agates, gleaming with a blood-red light in the firelight; each branch of its bronze-forged antlers is as sharp as a real blade. The junction of the hammerhead and handle is encased in a meticulously crafted antique bronze sheath, its edges showing clear signs of wear, adding to its battle-hardened, weathered appearance.

When this warhammer was swung with tremendous force, it didn't whistle as it tore through the air, but rather produced a deep, muffled rumble, like the roar of an ancient beast awakening from its slumber. Any knight's armor struck by it would instantly turn to dust, with fragments even embedding themselves three inches deep into stone walls; if it struck the ground, the shockwave would be enough to overturn a brazier a few steps away.

Deep within Ironsmoke Isle, the scorching furnace reflected Euron's focused profile, the roar of the hammer almost the only sound in his world. Sweat streamed down his taut muscles, sputtering into tiny wisps of steam on the molten metal. He was intently adjusting the angle of the warhammer's grip, his fingertips savoring that unique balance.

Just then, a slightly hurried sound of footsteps broke the monotony of the workshop. A dust-covered Iron Warrior walked through the sweltering heat and respectfully handed over a secret letter tied with seaweed rope.

"Sir, an urgent message from Pike Island."

Euron's brow twitched slightly. He put down his tools and unfolded the letter. Lisa's familiar, concise, and efficient handwriting came into view:

A messenger from Lonely Lampburg has come, pointing specifically to you. Return to Pike Island immediately.

Lonely Lamp Keep—an ancient fortress located in the far west of the Iron Islands, shrouded in mist and legend year-round, whose inhabitants have always lived in seclusion and rarely interacted with other families.

They actually sent an envoy at this moment, and so explicitly demanded to see him—

Euron lifted his gaze from the letter and looked out at the gloomy sky. Without any hesitation, he solemnly entrusted the warhammer, which still needed careful polishing, to the master blacksmith beside him.

"I'm leaving this to you. Pay close attention to every detail," he commanded in a deep voice, his tone piercing through the clatter of the forging hammers. "I'm returning to Pike Island immediately."

Lone Lighthouse, standing on the westernmost edge of the known world, is the last watchtower that civilization can reach. To reach that land shrouded in mist and legend, travelers must begin their journey from Old Wake Island and plunge northwest into that endless, gloomy gray ocean.

The voyage lasts eight days, during which the only companions are packs of seals and roaring sea lions, their dens scattered across the desolate reefs along the way. As the ship finally passes through this seemingly eternally desolate sea, the solitary fortress slowly emerges from the horizon—belonging to the ancient and elusive Fawin family.

Most striking is the ever-burning lighthouse atop the castle, which shines day and night. The enormous torch pierces the fog of eternal night and the veil of storms, guiding ships beyond the perilous horizon and earning this land the name "Lone Lighthouse."

That light was both a symbol of hope and a silent declaration: this place was the end of the world.

Although Lonelight Keep is nominally part of the Iron Islands and flies the Greyjoy Kraken flag, it is more like an independent entity detached from the world.

It does not participate in the affairs of the Iron Islands, does not send longships to join the raids, and remains indifferent to the dynastic changes on the continent of Westeros and the conflicts across the Narrow Sea. House Fawin is small in number, and like hermits guarding a lighthouse at the end of the world, they have long adhered to a principle of near-apathy, much like legendary ascetics who live in seclusion and are untouched by the world.

They do not believe in drowning gods, or even any gods at all. This custom, which is incompatible with that of the Ironborn, has led the Ironborn of the Iron Islands to deliberately distance themselves from them.

That is why they would send an envoy at this moment and explicitly request to see me; this is truly extraordinary.

Euron stood at the bow of the ship returning to Pike Island, the salty sea breeze hitting his face, yet a rare question lingered in his mind. Why had this group of "hermits," almost forgotten by time, suddenly stepped out of that mist-shrouded territory?

What exactly is their purpose here?

This unexpected visit, like a pebble thrown into a calm, deep sea, sent ripples of curiosity through Euron's heart.