Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 371 The Outer Sea Area - Kill or Let Go

The Wrath of the Grey Sea King stands silently like a black reef on the only shipping route from Valano Island to the Free City.

Baron Greyjoy's fleet held the position firmly, with twenty longships spread out on either side like a swarm of sharks.

They didn't have to wait long.

On the distant horizon, two graceful swan-shaped boats with white sails like clouds are fleeing north in a panic, trying to escape the archipelago that is about to be engulfed in war.

Their ornate designs were particularly eye-catching to the ironworkers.

There were no warning horns, no flags ordering the ship to stop, not even a single unnecessary question. Baron stood at the bow, coldly watching his prey enter the encirclement, spitting out only a single word through clenched teeth: "Kill!"

In an instant, the massive iron hooks tore through the air, clamping down hard on the swan ship's exquisite hull. The boarding axe warriors surged onto the enemy ship like a gray tide, roaring. The battle—or rather, the massacre—unfolded in a flash, and ended just as quickly. Resistance was weak; desperate cries were quickly drowned out by the muffled thuds of the Ironborn's axes cleaving flesh and bone.

Also intercepted was a mercenary ship attempting to slip away in the chaos, which belonged to the infamous "Golden Company" of the disputed territory.

Baron's methods were simple, direct, and cruel. He looked at the terrified prisoners on deck, including the noble prince, his eyes devoid of any emotion, only the indifference of someone about to slaughter a lamb. He raised his hand, ready to issue the order he had carried out his entire life: execute them all, leave no one alive, and throw their bodies into the sea to feed the fish.

"Father!"

Asha Greyjoy's voice rang out decisively. She strode across the deck and stood between Baron and the prisoners, her young age masking her unwavering gaze as she met her father's imposing stare.

"Seneca is the prince of Kagoshima; he is more valuable alive than dead! The Golden Company members are also important sources of intelligence! Indiscriminate killing will only bring us the name of 'butchers,' not the honor of conquerors!"

Asha added, "The only thing Uncle Euron made me do before I boarded the ship was to tell you to stop the senseless killing when you were about to kill everyone!"

Baron's brow furrowed, his heavy breathing betraying his displeasure. He was used to solving problems with a battle axe, and the girl's words sounded almost pedantic to him. Father and daughter faced each other on the blood-soaked deck, the air heavy as the calm before a storm.

Finally, Baron gave a heavy snort and waved his hand roughly, tacitly approving. He turned and walked away, leaving the troublesome matter of dealing with the prisoners to Asha.

If it weren't for Asha's firm opposition, this sea area would have been dyed even redder long ago, and several figures who might have had a key impact on the future battle would have silently sunk to the bottom of the sea.

The azure sea was stained crimson. Baron Greyjoy stood at the bow of the Grey Sea King's Wrath. The resentment he had harbored for being sent on a blockade mission had long been washed away by the continuous "harvest" before him.

He originally felt extremely frustrated that he couldn't participate in the direct battles of conquering cities and seizing territories, and was just waiting here like a fisherman.

In retrospect, those concerns were completely unnecessary.

As soon as the war began, the pampered nobles and wealthy merchants of the Summer Islands, like a swarm of frightened rats, scrambled in their ornate but clumsy swan boats, trying to escape this sinking paradise.

Looking at yet another captured swan ship and the spoils piled on its deck, Baron spread his arms and let out a thunderous laugh that shook the sea, his voice rough like the scraping of rocks: "Men! Open your eyes wide! I've got Euron's guarantee—" He waved his hand sharply, pointing to the vast sea, his tone filled with ferocious excitement, "In this sea, not even a damn sea fly will get past me!"

The crew members around them were busy, roughly turning over the corpses, skillfully prying off rings and tearing off necklaces, stuffing the looted gold dragons and silver coins into their leather bags. The deck was filled with a heavy stench of blood and plunder.

Hearing their king's roar, they raised their heads, their faces splattered with blood, their eyes gleaming with greed and the satisfaction of slaughter. They raised their blood-stained battle axes or daggers, responding with a thunderous roar like a tsunami: "Yes, Your Majesty!"

Looking back now, this was hardly a tedious wait; it was clearly a continuous feast where prey walked right into the trap.

On the southern shipping lanes guarded by Dono Sucliff on Salt Cliff Island and Beller Blacktes on Kuroshio Island, a similar scene of "abundance" unfolded.

Ships attempting to escape the war relentlessly crashed into this deadly web, the floating planks and occasional glimpses of blood attesting to the brutal efficiency of the blockade. Dono and Balor, like Baron, adhered to the Iron Islands' most direct law: those who resisted were killed, and those who surrendered had to pay a heavy price in "iron coins" for their lives.

In stark contrast to this bloody air route was the area under the command of Edwin Ramirez and Victorion Greyjoy. The atmosphere there was equally tense, but with an added layer of insidious calculation.

Edwin Ramirez stood calmly before a small, stopped refugee boat, looking at the pale-faced prisoners on deck with their hands raised. He stroked his meticulously groomed goatee, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Look," he said with a feigned helplessness in his voice, teasingly, "I had to use a lot of persuasion to convince these bloodthirsty brothers behind me to spare your lives for now."

He held up two fingers and said slowly, "You have two choices now. The first one," he pointed to a ferocious Ironborn warrior beside him, wielding a blood-dripping battle axe, "is to bring him over, and with a swift stroke of the axe—*crack*! Clean and efficient, all done. Perfect timing, those little creatures waiting to be fed underwater are hungry too."

"The other one! We choose the other one!" the prisoners almost screamed, their voices distorted with fear.

"The other one—" Edwin drawled, a glint of shrewdness in his eyes, "is letting you go back." He surveyed the eyes filled with a desperate will to survive. "Remember, once you get back, tell everyone you know, knock on every door you can open, tell the entire Summer Isles—their king, the true King of the Summer Isles, Jalabah Zor, has returned!"

His eyes turned cold, and his voice suddenly rose as he said, "Then use every means to support Jalabar Zor's ascension to the throne! Otherwise—" He leaned closer, lowering his voice, but the threat became even more chilling, "once the new king truly takes the throne and begins to settle scores, your fate—that long and painful ordeal—will be a thousand times worse than having your head chopped off with an axe!"

"We'll do it! We'll do whatever you say! We'll definitely keep our promise!" the prisoners swore eagerly.

Edwin smiled nonchalantly, as if he could see right through them, and sighed, "No need to force yourself."

"It's okay if you don't comply." He shrugged, his tone as casual as if he were chatting. "Since you've chosen to run away, you must understand the scale of this war and the sheer size of the Iron Islands' forces. Smart people know which side they should stand on to survive, or even—survive better."

He casually waved his hand, and two pirates he had brought, their eyes alert and filled with hostility, stepped forward.

"They will follow you back and assist you. As long as you obey, your lives are temporarily in your own hands."

In a short period of time, five small boats carrying "special missions" and "military supervisors" were released from Edwin's blockade and returned to the Summer Isles.

This seemingly liberating act actually planted five forces within the turbulent archipelago that would undermine resistance from within and promote unification.

Winning hearts and minds is the key to success, and Edwin was well aware of this principle.