Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 368 The Summer Islands: Just the Beginning

Jalabar Sole's heart was churning, yet his face maintained a stiff, almost impassive calm. He paused for a moment, as if carefully searching through the dust of memory for faces blurred by time, before uttering, in a voice as steady as possible, a few names and pieces of information carrying the weight of the past: "Ellie Sanders, he was one of the best shipwrights in Kagoshima, and the most loyal craftsman to my father. He had a deep scar on his left brow bone, left from when he was young, whipped by a snapping rope that almost broke his eyebrow in two. He was missing three fingers on his right hand, injured by a falling axe while rushing to build a swan boat, but his remaining two fingers were still more dexterous than most able-bodied craftsmen."

He paused, then continued, "Freya Gak, she was the captain of the royal guard in Redflower Valley, and one of my mother's personal bodyguards. She had dark sandalwood skin, and a thorny vine tattoo on her right cheek, a symbol of protection. Her left little finger was severed during an attack, but her skill with a spear in her right hand was unmatched in the entire Redflower Valley."

"Toby Knight, he made his living fishing on Auburnu Island, and seemed like just an ordinary fisherman. But he was my childhood companion and my most astute informant. He was slightly hunched over, bearing the marks of years of hauling in nets. He had a small piece missing from his left earlobe, a souvenir from a fight when he was young. His eyes were always bright and curious, but he was actually more shrewd than anyone else."

Euron's gaze shifted to Freud, who stood solemnly to the side, and he said softly, "Freud!"

"Here!" the young Greyjoy responded immediately, his body stiffening.

-

"Did you hear what Prince Jalaba Sole just said? Did you remember it?" Euron's question was extremely concise.

"Understood!" Freud's answer was firm and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.

Euron nodded slightly and ordered, "Repeat it once."

Freud took a deep breath and began to speak, his words steady and clear, perfectly repeating the names, islands, identities, and key physical characteristics that Prince Jalabar had just described. His voice echoed in the operations room, every detail reproduced with precision, demonstrating his astonishing memory and concentration.

Euron's smile deepened slightly upon hearing this, culminating in a low, resounding praise: "Very good." He then ordered, "Go find Lisa. Use every means to find them. Then, tell them that a storm is coming and they need to do something."

"Yes, sir!" Freud's eyes flashed with excitement. He pounded his chest and, without any further words, turned around decisively and strode out of the operations room to carry out his first important mission after integrating into the Iron Islands.

Euron's gaze returned to Jalabar Sol, and he said, "The next question is, where should we attack first, where should we attack next, and—how should we attack?"

He then chuckled, "You've spent more than half a year with my Iron People warriors, so you should know their nature. When they get carried away with the fighting, under their battle axes and blades, they can't tell who's who, nor can they remember who should be killed and who should be spared."

In their eyes, there were only standing enemies and fallen corpses.

Jalabar Sohr's expression changed instantly, a pallor crossing his face. He took a deep breath and spoke with difficulty, trying to draw a line in the face of inevitable bloodshed: "I understand—but please, only kill the nobles and those who take up arms in rebellion. As for the common people—they are only forced to obey; spare their lives unless absolutely necessary."

Euron nodded, but his definition was cold and absolute: "Anyone who uses a weapon and points it at us, whether he was a farmer or a fisherman before, is considered a rebel at that moment. That is the only limit."

Prince Jalaba argued, "But many commoners are enslaved and coerced! They are not willing to be our enemies!"

"This is war!"

Euron's voice suddenly turned cold, like a polar wind, instantly freezing any remaining illusions the other man might have. He stared at the prince, his eyes sharp as knives: "In war, no one is entirely innocent. On the battlefield, there are only two kinds of people: allies or enemies."

I cannot, and will not, expect my people to distinguish, in the midst of life-or-death combat, which spear-wielding warrior charges forward—a unwilling commoner or a bloodthirsty noble! A moment's distraction on the battlefield can cost a Ironclad citizen their life! Prince Jalabar!

Euron said coldly, "If you still cling to this unrealistic mercy—then I can only say that you haven't learned anything from your last failure."

This piercing question struck Jalaba Sol like a thunderbolt, turning his face deathly pale. He remained silent for a long time, as if all his strength had been drained, or as if he had finally come to terms with some cruel law, before whispering, "I—I understand. I will do my best—to persuade those civilians before the battle to give up resistance, and even to become part of our uprising."

Euron smiled and nodded, saying, "I believe you can do it!"

He slowly turned around, his light sweeping across Baron and the island lords gathered around the table—the core pillars of the Greyjoy family—already aware of the even grander voyage that transcended the Summer Islands.

"Now," Euron's voice broke the silence, carrying an unquestionable authority, "you can tell the captains of the ships."

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over each rugged face, and said coldly, "Tell them that this expedition to the Summer Islands is by no means the end!"

"There's no need to reveal our voyage's destination or specific future goals. Just let them know, let every Ironborn warrior wielding a battle axe understand—"7

"This rich archipelago is merely the starting point of our long journey, the beginning of the sea monster's flag sweeping across the southern seas!"

Ahead lies a wider world, and even greater wealth and glory await us!

He straightened up, his imposing presence enveloping the entire venue.

"Go and relay my words verbatim. Let every rower, every axe-wielding warrior remember this well: no questions, no thoughts, just—follow my Zhiyuan and attack wherever my sword points! We will, in the end, rule this sea!"

"The Summer Islands are just the beginning of our conquest!"

Once the order is given, no further explanation is needed.

The island lords bowed deeply, then turned and strode out of the operations room to ignite the burning flame of "conquest" in the hearts of their men.

Soon, this massive fleet will all learn that they have embarked on a conquest far more magnificent than they ever imagined.