Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 382 Valano Island – Change of Hand

Inside the castle's main hall, the last candlelight flickered in the draft, illuminating Donovan Lyman, who stood alone before the throne. His magnificent robes were covered in dust, and his eyes held the air of a trapped beast, yet he still maintained the demeanor of a monarch.

Euron and Jalaba Soll entered the hall side by side, their footsteps echoing through the empty stone walls.

"Are you going to do it yourself?" Euron's voice was calm, but its tone was icy and chilling. "Or should we do it?"

Euron said coldly, "You personally threw hundreds of innocent civilians off the city walls—this sin will not make your death easy."

We will let you savor what pain truly is.

Donovan Lyman let out a hoarse, dry laugh, filled with the madness of someone at their wits' end: "Civilians? If their lives could bring me victory, then they would have died a worthy death! Alas—they were ultimately just a bunch of useless trash, unable to even demonstrate that much value!"

He suddenly turned to Jalabar Sor, his eyes gleaming with malice: "Jalabar! Didn't you claim to be the savior of the common people? Didn't you say you would bring them hope and justice? But where were you when you watched me throw them down like garbage? Where was your kindness? Where were your moving pronouncements? You and I are essentially no different! Neither of us ever truly cared about the lives of those lowly people! You are just—better at pretending!"

Jalabar Thal's face turned ashen with rage, but he wasn't broken by these scathing remarks. Instead, he saw through the other man's intentions: "Donovan, save your breath. You want to provoke me with these words, and more importantly, buy time to create a chance for your precious son Skadi? Hmph, wishful thinking!"

"He can't escape," Euron added calmly from the side, his tone as certain as a pronouncement.

The last trace of color drained from Donovan Lyman's face, and despair completely consumed him. He let out a roar that was not human, and suddenly grabbed his sword, not to attack, but to use his body to block the only hidden exit behind the throne!

But his swordsmanship was like a child's play compared to Euron's.

A flash of cold light.

No one even saw how Euron drew his sword; all they heard were two almost simultaneous, teeth-grinding metallic snapping sounds and Donovan Lyman's heart-wrenching screams.

His hands, which he used to block the door and hold the sword, were severed cleanly at the wrists, the cuts as smooth as a mirror, and blood gushed out like a fountain.

Euron casually tossed Donovan Lyman, who was writhing and screaming in agony, to Jalaba Sol's feet as if he were a piece of trash.

"It's up to you," Euron said indifferently. "Do whatever you want with it."

In the hall, only Donovan Lyman's agonizing wails and Jalaba Thal's heavy breathing, a mixture of vengeful flames and a heavy sense of mission, remained.

As the street fighting at Lotus Harbor intensified, Prince Skadi Lyman of Valano Island, escorted by the defending general Bernhard Sharp and his last three hundred loyal guards, hastily retreated to the harbor. There, their last hope of escaping this nightmare lay.

The port had already been blockaded under Euron's orders.

The three thousand mercenaries from the Long Spear Company, the Raven Company, and the Cat Company stood like three iron gates, firmly guarding every exit of the dock area. They coldly watched their former "employer" in disarray, strictly enforcing Euron's order—to prohibit any ship from leaving port.

"Break through! We must break through!" Bernhard Sharp roared, the veteran displaying his final, desperate effort.

A loyalty bordering on tragic. He led three hundred equally resolute guards, along with three hundred silent, fearless Unsullied, in a desperate charge against the mercenary group's lines.

The battle erupted instantly and quickly reached its most brutal peak.

Loyal guards cleared a path for the prince with their bodies, falling one after another to the mercenaries' swords. The Unsullied, on the other hand, were like true war machines; each thrust of their spears was precise and deadly, tearing a brief gash in the mercenaries' thick lines.

The cost is enormous.

When Bernhard Sharp, covered in blood, led his remaining twenty-odd guards and escorted the panicked Donovan and his son through the blockade, finally stumbling onto the gangplank of a speedboat, he looked back and saw that the port area was a scene of carnage and bloodshed.

All three hundred guards and three hundred Unsullied he brought had perished in battle. The last Unsullied was being cleaved in two by the terrifying battle axe of Cassius Fletcher, the new leader of the Cats, who cleaved his shield and body in two.

In the instant that the unblemished body fell to the ground, splattering blood everywhere.

A dark figure emerged unhurriedly from the shadows of the port area.

Euron Greyjoy.

He arrived.

The battle was over, and the fugitives had just boarded the ship. He arrived neither too early nor too late, precisely at this moment when everything had settled and hope and despair had come to an end. His gaze calmly swept over the loyal corpses scattered on the ground, and finally settled on the fugitive ship that was frantically trying to weigh anchor and raise the sails.

Amidst the smoke and acrid smell of gunpowder filling the port, Euron sheathed his burning twin swords and glanced at the three mercenary leaders beside him, whose expressions were tense. "You've done your job," Euron nodded slightly to them, his tone flat, without a trace of blame, as if their failure to stop the "decapitation squad" was entirely within his expectations.

Eager to prove himself again, Gillo Rehha of the Long Spear Regiment stepped forward and pointed to the magnificent swan ship belonging to the prince, which was desperately fleeing the harbor: "Lord Euron, I'll take men and chase after them immediately! They are few in number and wounded; they can't go fast, and they definitely can't get far!"

Upon hearing this, Euron smiled and shook his head: "No need."

His gaze fell upon the seemingly calm sea, and his voice carried a certainty akin to declaring fate: "They're doomed."

'

—I said it.

He was indeed not worried at all. Because the ruler of this sea area had never changed.

Sure enough, the swan boat carrying Prince Skadi's last hope had only sailed a few hundred meters from the harbor, attempting to disappear into the deepest darkness before dawn—!

A huge, jagged dorsal fin, its edges gleaming with a steely cold light, suddenly cleaved through the inky sea like the scythe raised by the Grim Reaper!

Before anyone could even react, the dorsal fin swept across the bottom of the ship at incredible speed—crack!

The sturdy hull was like a fragile toy, forcibly sliced ​​in two by an irresistible force!

Amidst the flying sawdust, the prince's guards standing on the ship didn't even have time to scream before they were cut in half at the same time the ship broke apart. Their limbs and internal organs instantly splattered out, staining the surrounding seawater red.

This is just the beginning.

The Steelscale Sawshark "Scaleblade," Baron's companion, this bloodthirsty sea king was clearly not yet satisfied. Its massive shadow writhed nimbly in the water, like a skilled yet ruthless butcher, delivering two precise and ferocious slashes to the floating wreckage and struggling figures!

Broken planks, masts, sails, and human remains were further shredded.

Seemingly having grown tired of this game of slaughter, "Scaleblade" finally lost patience. Its massive head, covered in steel scales and resembling a mobile fortress, suddenly rose completely from beneath the sea, opening its gaping maw—like a deep abyss—with a deafening roar.

A powerful suction force was generated, and a rapidly spinning whirlpool appeared on the sea surface. The wreckage of the swan ship, the struggling and crying human bodies, and their weapons and equipment—all were swallowed up by the gigantic maw!

A moment later, the sea suddenly closed in.

Only a few floating wood chips and a large patch of blood slowly spreading, turning the morning light an eerie red, proved that a brief but complete destruction had taken place there.

At the port, Gillo Reha and the other two commanders stood frozen in place, their faces pale, unable to speak for a long time.

If we leave by boat, the consequences will be—

Donovan Lyman, the monarch of Valano, was captured, and his fate was inevitably worse than death; Prince Skadi Lyman perished in the belly of a fish.

From this moment on, Valano Island changed hands, and the unification of the Summer Islands faced no further obstacles.