Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 360 The Future Captain

The morning light pierced through the thin mist of Qingting Island harbor, turning the fleet's gray sails a golden-red hue.

Euron Greyjoy and Baron Greyjoy stood side by side on the dock, bidding farewell to the Redwyn father and son who had come to see them off.

"May the winds always blow in your favor, Your Grace," Earl Adrian said solemnly, his gaze involuntarily drifting toward Euron's back.

Euron smiled and replied, "Thank you for your blessing, Your Excellency!"

In the harbor, more than 300 warships are slowly raising their sails.

The oars of the warships cut into the emerald green water in unison, producing a deep and powerful rhythm, like the heartbeat of a giant beast.

One by one, the gray sails were raised to their fullest height, and the sea breeze immediately inflated them into full arcs, propelling the ship firmly through the waves.

Baron's "Wrath of the Grey Sea King" and Euron's "Reach" sailed side by side, like two monarchs surveying their domains. The shadows cast by their massive hulls almost covered the entire shipping lane.

Ships came and went in an endless, orderly fashion, forming a moving, seemingly endless sea forest. The gleam of steel, the splashing of oars, and the shouts of warriors combined to create an unstoppable torrent, advancing southwards, towards the road of conquest.

The sea breeze carries a salty scent, along with the deep, resonant war songs of the warriors on deck. Their bronze skin is crisscrossed with scars, and their eyes burn with a thirst for conquest—this is a fleet born for conquest.

Lord Adrian Redwin stood on the dock for a long time, letting the sea breeze ruffle his graying hair. Only when the last Greyjoy warship's sail disappeared on the horizon did he slowly withdraw his gaze, exhale deeply, his breath carrying an indescribable mix of emotions.

"Such a military display—" The old count's voice was somewhat hoarse. He turned to his son, Parker, his eyes still showing shock and a hint of barely perceptible desolation. "Our proud Qingting Island fleet is like a child's toy in front of them."

Paxter's gaze remained fixed on the direction the fleet had disappeared in, and he sighed, "They were indeed powerful, Father, powerful to the point of being—suffocating." He chose his words carefully, "But as I said, they are our allies now. Euron Greyjoy's ambitions are directed south, not the Seven Kingdoms, much less our Reach. It is truly fortunate that we stand shoulder to shoulder with this 'son of the drowned god' as he turns his gaze elsewhere, rather than as his adversary."

"Allies?" Adrian gave a wry smile and shook his head. "Parker, remember this: today's allies may be tomorrow's enemies. What binds us together isn't friendship, but our fragile partnership, and—" He glanced back towards the castle, where Greyjoy's family had been entertained, "and the 'value' and subservience we're displaying right now."

The old count's gaze sharpened. He patted his son's shoulder, his tone heavy and firm: "While we are fortunate, we must not forget to be vigilant. We cannot rely on mere luck to protect Qingting Island forever. We must make our fleet stronger and our walls more fortified. Only by possessing our own strength can we truly control our own destiny in any storm."

He glanced one last time at the vast ocean, then turned and walked towards the castle, his back looking particularly resolute in the morning light. "Let's go, child. We also have our own voyages to continue."

The fleet left the azure waters and golden shores of Green Pavilion Island, turned south, and sailed along the Dorne coastline.

The fleet's next anchorage is Spear City, a kingdom of red earth and blazing sun. There, they will make their final stop on Westeros, where they will resupply and rest briefly before setting their sights on the Summer Isles.

The days of sailing passed by amidst the sounds of sails, ropes, and sea breeze.

As the fleet sailed further south, the climate subtly changed.

The biting sea breeze gradually softened, even carrying a faint hint of the dry heat from the southern desert and the fragrance of exotic spices. The seawater also transitioned from its familiar dark gray to a breathtaking emerald green and azure blue.

The closer they got to their destination, the more uncontrollable the restlessness in the blood of the Iron People became.

A sense of excitement, anticipation of an impending great battle, silently passed and spread between each ship.

No longer content with silent sailing, ancient war songs began to rise on one or two longships. At first, it was only one or two ships, but soon the melody spread like the tide, with hundreds and thousands of voices joining in. Then, like wildfire, it quickly spread throughout the entire fleet.

His voice was rough and unrestrained: "Our longships are the steeds of the sea!"

"Our axes are the fangs of the storm!"

"The god of drowning has granted us courage."

"Let's seize the gold!"

"Children of the Drowning God~"

"We will eventually return to the palace of the drowning god!"

They sang of the mighty power of the drowning god, of the glory their ancestors had plundered in the raging waves, and of the wealth and victory they would soon win on the rich lands of the south. Their songs, though not always in unison, were filled with a primal power, echoing with the rhythm of oars striking the water, reverberating over the ever-warming sea.

Every day at dawn, as the first pale rays of light sweep across the masts of the "Zhiyuan", the crisp clanging of metal against metal echoes precisely on the deck.

This is Euron Greyjoy's classroom, with only two students: his niece Asha and his brother Victarion.

Euron moved with agility, his twin swords seemingly coming to life in his hands, transforming into two silver arcs that coiled around him. He wore no armor, only a dark leather outfit that allowed for easy movement, and the sea breeze tossed his unbound black hair wildly.

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Opposite him, Asha Greyjoy was completely focused, her grey eyes following her uncle's every move. She too wielded two swords, her posture mirroring Euron's.

Of all Baron's children, Asha's fighting talent was the most dazzling, and from a young age, she admired her uncle, who was famous for his dual swords. From the moment she could wield a sword, she was determined to emulate Euron's fighting style, especially after Euron won the solo tournament at Harrenhal, after which she revered dual swordsmanship as a religion. Years of arduous practice made her equally dexterous with both hands, and her blades moved with deadly fluidity from any angle.

On the other side, Victarion was completely different. He was as steady as a mountain, his enormous hands gripping a heavy longsword almost as tall as a normal person. He was the most powerful and resilient of Euron's brothers, accustomed to crushing his enemies with overwhelming attacks.

The clash of swords and the glint of blades intertwined in the morning light, the clanging of metal, the heavy breathing, and the sound of the waves blending together.

Euron moved like a ghost, his twin blades seemingly alive in his hands, tracing treacherous and deadly paths. At times he attacked like a storm, forcing the two to defend with all their might; at other times he would suddenly stop, using the tips of his blades to precisely point out the slightest flaws in their stances.

"Your wrists need to be flexible, Asha, like flowing water, not like a reef!" His voice was calm and without a trace of breathlessness, even after just completing a series of swift, swift slashes. Asha's lips were tightly pressed together, her eyes burning with an indomitable flame. The twin swords in her hands were slightly shorter than Euron's, making them even more agile. Her talent lay in her innate agility and almost beast-like instincts, often allowing her to parry or counterattack from unexpected angles, the blades flashing like two silver mackerel poised to strike.

Euron's strategy against Victarion was quite different. His brother wielded a massive two-handed greatsword, swinging it with a dull whistling sound that tore through the air. Victarion's talent lay in his terrifying strength and rock-solid stability; each parry was powerful and heavy, and any ordinary weapon would have been sent flying.

"Strength is not brute force, Viktorion!" Euron's blade rarely clashed head-on with the greatsword. Instead, he skillfully guided the sword's momentum, slightly deflecting the immense power and dissipating it into nothingness. "Be like the tide, possessing the power to engulf everything, yet also the skill to take everything with it when it recedes!"

Around the deck, a number of sailors would always gather silently to watch. They watched Asha's twin swords move with the agility of a dance, watched Victalion's powerful blows that could cleave rocks, and watched how Lord Euron dealt with these two completely different attack styles at the same time, as if riding the waves.

As dusk fell, with combat training over and the sweat and steely smell still lingering on the deck, another training session began.

Euron will take Asha and Victarion to the navigation room in the stern deck, where a huge nautical chart hangs.

Here, there is no clash of swords, only Euron's deep voice echoing in the swaying glow of the whale oil lamp, teaching a skill far more complex than swords.

Euron placed his finger between the winding coastline and the scattered islands on the nautical chart and said in a deep voice, "The outcome of a battle depends on the strength and angle of your sword strike, but the outcome of a war is influenced by many factors."

Euron taught the two how to decipher the secrets of wind and ocean currents, how to predict storms from clouds and the flight paths of birds, and how to dissect every classic raid and naval battle in history, not just the glory of victory, but more importantly, how to make choices in desperate situations and how to weigh gains and losses.

"To control a ship, you need to inspire awe in the sailors for your strength; but to control a fleet, or even a kingdom, you need to inspire awe in their wisdom and their belief that following them will bring them glory and wealth."

Asha displayed astonishing tactical acumen, always quickly grasping Euron's strategies and devising bold and ingenious flanking attack plans. Her quick thinking was no less impressive than her wielding of dual swords. Viktorion, on the other hand, demonstrated a solid talent for fleet formations, logistical coordination, and the application of overwhelming force. He might not be the most unpredictable, but his composure and strong execution made him a reliable cornerstone on any front.

Euron watched them, a hint of expectation flashing in his eyes.

Euron knew the course of history; even without his deliberate cultivation, his niece and brother would eventually grow into captains and rulers who would command the attention of the Seven Kingdoms. But it was precisely for this reason that Euron spared no effort in nurturing them. He wanted to instill in them the lessons they would need to learn through more than a decade of blood and fire, the essence of power struggles, ambition, and rule—into their minds beforehand.

Under his personal craftsmanship, these two rough gems will surely shine with a brilliance far exceeding what "fate" originally intended.

They will inevitably become the sharpest double-edged sword of House Greyjoy, assisting him, and even after him, in building an unprecedented, truly dominant empire that rules the seas.