Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 375 The Last City – Encirclement Without Attacking

From the moment the fleet of the Iron Islands pierced the azure waters of the Summer Islands like a spear of destiny until the sun sank below the horizon on the third day, only three days had passed.

In those brief but thrilling three days, the tide of conquest swept across this emerald chain of islands with overwhelming force.

Apart from Lotus Harbor, the largest and most heavily fortified capital of Valano Island at the northern tip, which is still putting up a stubborn resistance, the entire sea area has changed hands.

On Zal Island in the south, the bloody revenge in Red Flower Valley and the fall of Tantou Town had already tolled the death knell for the old order. On Obenlu Island in the central region, the prince's reckless resistance resulted in his beheading and the island's swift fall. The remaining scattered islands were either persuaded by the prestige of Women's Island and the military might of the Iron People, or raised the flag of submission after symbolic resistance.

With the raising of new flags, Prince Jalabar Zor was officially crowned the recognized ruler of these islands. The grey sails and golden sea monster flag of the Iron Islands became the new symbols of dominance over these seas.

The cost of achieving such a brilliant victory was negligible, almost insignificant.

The Iron People warriors seemed not to be waging a war of conquest, but rather a war that had been rehearsed countless times before.

A highly efficient and ruthless armed march. Superior equipment, rigorous training, a fierce style, and accurate intelligence and internal coordination result in minimal casualties.

All eyes and all pressure were turned to the north, to the last stronghold still silently gathering strength—Valano Island. The fate of the Summer Islands rested on this last, and most formidable, barrier to be breached.

Donovan Lyman, the monarch of Valano, was no mediocre man.

When news of the Iron Islands fleet sweeping across the southern islands with overwhelming force came one after another, he clearly foresaw the outcome of dividing his forces to defend them—that would mean being defeated one by one by the enemy, ultimately resulting in total defeat.

He stood atop the tallest tower in Lotus Harbor, gazing southwards where the sea met the sky, his gaze somber and resolute. Without a moment's hesitation, he issued a cold but uncompromising order: abandon all outlying outposts.

The elite troops stationed in the inland rainforest town of Hightree, the garrison guarding the strategically important town of Last Song in the north, and all available troops scattered across other small islands, were forcibly and swiftly drawn back like a receding tide, all gathering in Lotus Harbor, the last fortress.

Donovan Lyman chose Lotus Harbor as the stage for the final battle because it was the most fortified place on the entire Valano Island, and even the entire Summer Islands. The towering walls had been reinforced over the centuries, and the towers with numerous loopholes overlooked the sea and mudflats. The harbor area was further fortified with multiple layers of fencing and hidden stakes, making it virtually impregnable.

Furthermore, he harbored an unspoken consideration: Lotus Harbor possessed the most convenient outlet to the sea. It served as both a shield against external enemies and an escape route that could be opened at any time. If the war turned against them and the situation became irreversible, he and his core followers could board ships as quickly as possible, escape through secret underground sea passages, flee overseas, and preserve the resources to make a comeback.

Another factor that gave Donovan Lyman confidence in defending against the Ironborn's attack was that after learning of the agreement between Jalabah Thal and the Iron Islands, he continuously offered large sums of money to invite other mercenary groups to join the battle. He even bought a thousand Unsullied from Astapor in Slaver's Bay, whose defensive capabilities were known throughout the world.

Lotus Harbor is located close to the coast, making it the castle from which reinforcements can arrive most quickly.

Donovan Lyman staked everything on the city he had built up over the years, along with his own chances of survival.

Inside the walls of Lotus Harbor, it had now become a crowded mix of military camps and refugees.

Donovan Lyman spared no effort in assembling a formidable force: five thousand standing soldiers of the Summer Isles, clad in gleaming silver armor and wielding standard spears and scimitars; three thousand mercenaries with greedy eyes and mixed attire, hailing from disputed lands or even more distant regions; and one thousand unsullied slave warriors, silent as mountains, armed with spears and shields, their faces expressionless.

If we also include the large number of people caught up in it, this last fortress is crowded with nearly ten thousand bewildered and uneasy faces.

Donovan Lyman stood atop the city wall, gazing at the army he depended on for survival, and felt a sense of calm settle in. The bloody battle he had anticipated seemed imminent, and he was prepared for a fierce, relentless assault.

But the reality was completely different from what he had expected, and even had an unsettling eeriness about it.

On the sea, the massive fleet of the Iron Islands had already surrounded the shore, like a pack of wolves encircling their prey, their gray sails obscuring the distant horizon. They did not roar in attack, nor did war drums thunder, nor did they send a deluge of landing craft rushing towards the beach; they simply blockaded the coast.

On land, defenses were set up around Lotus Harbor. The Iron People erected their tents, placed wooden stakes and trenches in front of them, and then smoke rose peacefully from their cooking fires.

Euron Greyjoy wasn't in a hurry at all.

He delayed launching a full-scale attack, and it seemed as if he had no intention of attacking at all.

It was a suffocating silence, a pressure more agonizing than swords drawn. The Iron Islands chose to besiege without attacking, waiting for something, or perhaps slowly wearing down the will of all living beings within this isolated city with time and isolation.

Euron stood atop the deck of the "Zhiyuan," surveying the seemingly impregnable defenses of Lotus Harbor, his mind clear and ruthless.

Eight thousand defenders.

The number itself wasn't enough to frighten him, but the price he would have to pay for a forced siege was being calculated with perfect clarity in his mind.

Every warrior of the Ironborn is a precious asset to Euron, to be used for a future with a grander vision, and must not be easily wasted on the blood and flesh of siege warfare.

Especially among the defenders, there were the thousand Immaculates who stood silently behind the city walls.

These warriors, stripped of all emotion from childhood and whose sole purpose is absolute obedience and combat, are the most formidable obstacle in siege warfare. Their ranks are like an iron wall, and their spears weave a jungle of death.

Euron's mind flashed back to the world-famous Battle of Kohor—three thousand Unsullied, facing fifty thousand roaring Dothraki cavalry, had erected an impenetrable line of defense with their flesh and blood and discipline. When the smoke cleared, twelve thousand Dothraki lay dead on the battlefield, and of the Unsullied, only six hundred remained. Those surviving steppe knights were ultimately forced to dismount, come before the silent phalanx, cut off their braids—symbols of honor and life—and throw them at their feet as a sign of the deepest reverence and respect.

While the Dothraki were certainly not skilled at siege warfare, the Unsullied's ability to defend cities should not be underestimated. To fight such an enemy from behind fortified walls would be a foolish thing to do.

Euron has a powerful fleet, endless patience, and plenty of methods. Since a direct assault would be too costly, a smarter and less strenuous approach would be chosen.

He would never use the blood of the Iron People's sons to build the steps for attacking the city, provided there was a better way.

The city was originally designed for trade and defense, not to provide long-term siege protection for a large army. The food reserves in the warehouses are dwindling at an alarming rate due to the consumption of so many mouths. Even more critical is the lack of fresh water; the island's fresh water sources are limited, and the few springs and reservoirs that were previously relied upon are proving insufficient in the face of the sudden increase in demand.

The nearly ten thousand soldiers and civilians gathered in Lotus Harbor now seemed to have transformed from a formidable bulwark into a heavy shackle. The sense of security brought by the eight thousand soldiers was rapidly being replaced by a more primal and deadly crisis—survival.

Euron didn't need to sacrifice the lives of his Ironborn warriors to breach the walls. His fleet had completely cut off any possibility of supply from the sea, effectively strangling Lotus Harbor like an iron clamp. He didn't even need to launch an attack; he could simply wait patiently.

Time became his strongest ally, but also Lotus Harbor's cruelest executioner.

With each passing day, the city's food reserves dwindled, and its freshwater reserves dwindled. Panic, like a silent plague, began to spread among the hungry and thirsty soldiers and civilians.

Donovan Lyman's seemingly wise strategy of retrenchment is dragging him and all his followers step by step into an abyss of despair.

Lotus Harbor was left with only two clear and cruel paths: surrender before the starving and thirsty dead lay everywhere; or stubbornly hold out until everyone was slowly and painfully tormented to destruction.

Euron had no shortage of time. He could wait patiently, watching the lonely city slowly sink under his weight.

Conquest doesn't necessarily require bloodshed on city walls; sometimes, all it takes is enough patience to let time and scarcity accomplish the task.

Ten days.

The Iron Islands fleet remained motionless, like gray reefs embedded in the sea. There were no war drums, no horns, no landing craft attempting to approach, not even a symbolic request for negotiation, let alone any acceptance of negotiation.

Euron Greyjoy, with his absolute silence, erected a wall of pressure more suffocating than any shout, tightly binding Lotus Harbor.

Within the city, the initial order and hope that remained were being eroded bit by bit by the increasingly severe shortages.

Food rations had been reduced to the bare minimum necessary to sustain life, and clean water had become more precious than gold. Panic and despair spread like wildfire, and finally, hundreds of civilians on the verge of collapse gathered together and attempted to storm the warehouse, triggering a riot.

Donovan Lyman's response was brutal and efficient.

He ordered that hundreds of civilians, young and old, who had participated in the riot be thrown off the high city walls like trash. The dull thud of their bodies hitting the ground, and the horrifying bursts of flesh and blood that erupted instantly, became the latest testament to his continued rule.

Below the city walls, Jalabar Thal witnessed this scene, his face ashen. He spurred his horse forward, reaching the edge of arrow range, and shouted with all his might towards the city walls: "Donovan Lyman! Listen! Open the gates and let the civilians out! I, Jalabar Thal, swear in the name of the future King of the Summer Isles, that I will not launch any attack on Lotus Harbor while the civilians are evacuated! Please give them a way out!"

His voice echoed in the silent bay, carrying a hint of urgency to save the innocent.

The response to Jalaba was not words, but actions.

The mournful cries and struggles echoed once again from the city wall.

Under the watchful eyes of Jalabar and all the Iron People warriors, hundreds more civilians who had been driven to the crenellations were mercilessly pushed off, like a rain of blood and flesh, falling to their deaths at the foot of the city wall, their remains mingling with the remains of the previous victims in a horrific sight.

With this extremely bloody action, Donovan Lyman issued a declaration clearer than any roar: no compromise, no surrender, even at the cost of all the lives in the city.

At dawn on the eleventh day, Euron reappeared at the camp beneath the city walls, and the battle for psychological warfare officially began.

The relentless declaration, amplified by countless voices, surged towards the city walls like a tidal wave: "Listen up, garrison troops, mercenaries, and civilians within Lotus Harbor! You are the last and only force of resistance in the Summer Islands!"

An even more striking fact: "The entire Summer Islands, more than fifty islands, from the northernmost reef to the southernmost sandbar, have all declared their allegiance to Jalabar Sor, recognizing him as the sole and legitimate King of the Summer Islands!"

To confirm the veracity of this declaration, in a safe zone beyond the range of arrows from the city walls, flags belonging to the various islands were raised. Alicia, the warrior queen of Women's Island, stood proudly in her armor; the lord of Last Song Town wore his family's attire; the prince of Hightree Town was also among them; and there were also the rulers of the Singing Islands, Stonecrown Island, the Three Exiles Islands, and Bird Island—these former monarchs, whether independent or dependent on Valano Island, were now clearly visible to the city wall defenders.

Their presence, though silent, eloquently proved that Jalaba's words were true.

A long, clear cry from the ancient dragon echoed from high above.

The three sisters of Lonely Lantern Island rode their giant beasts across the city, and countless snow-white leaflets, like celestial maidens scattering flowers, drifted down from the clouds, landing inside and outside the city walls, in the streets and courtyards, and in the hands of every hungry and fearful civilian and soldier.

The leaflet was clearly written in both the Common Language of the Summer Islands and the Common Language of Westeros:

[A Letter to All Military Personnel and Civilians of Lianhua Port]

I am Jalabar Zor, King revered by the Summer Isles. Wherever my army goes:

• Do not harm anyone other than soldiers • Do not destroy a single crop • Do not burn a single home • Do not plunder a single city • Do not harm a single child • Do not insult a single woman The latter half of the leaflet takes a sharp turn, listing in a definitive tone the numerous bloody incidents and hidden crimes committed by Donovan Lyman during his reign to consolidate his power, nakedly exposing his tyranny to the public.

At the very bottom of the leaflet was a final and crucial declaration, jointly issued in the names of Jalabar Thal and Euron Greyjoy, "Lord of the Sea Beasts": "All garrison troops and foreign mercenaries who have not committed atrocities in the Summer Isles, surrender now, and all past transgressions will be forgiven and your lives spared!"

The waves of sound and the avalanche of paper together constitute a fierce offensive against the human heart.

The will to persevere, the fear of the tyrant, and the desire to survive clashed and fermented fiercely in this desolate city tormented by hunger and thirst.