Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 395 The Third Option—Give It a Try?

In this deadly sea, there were no warnings, no negotiations.

The roar of shattering wood and the crisp sound of breaking bones intertwined to form a concerto of slaughter.

Occasionally, a few wrecked ships that had been deliberately released would drift back to port, with mentally broken sailors slumped on the decks, repeatedly muttering the title "Lord of the Sea Beasts," their pupils reflecting the horrific image of their companions being dragged into the abyss by tentacles.

When the survivors returned to the Serpent Islands with their accounts, all their lingering hope finally crumbled. The pirates then realized that they were facing not only a fleet that traversed the seven seas, but also a ruler who could command giant sea monsters.

Their tragic state silenced the pirates who still harbored thoughts of escape, and the port fell into a deathly stillness, where even the sound of waves crashing against the shore seemed particularly jarring.

As the Iron Islands' three-day journey swept across the Basilisk Islands like a winter's chill, Edwin Ramirez had already made a precise move on a small island.

This small island lies between Fly Island and Lizard Point. It once housed a market town, but when the Red Death swept through the Lizard Islands, the islanders either died or fled, leaving it uninhabited. Edwin Ramirez, while roaming the Lizard Islands, once stayed here to escape his enemies; he had a secret dwelling there.

Edwin Ramirez named the island Hurricane Island.

Years ago, Edwin swore on this island that one day he would sweep away the snakes like an unstoppable hurricane.

Lizard Islands!

At this moment, atop the rugged cliffs, a golden sea monster flag flutters wildly in the salty sea breeze atop Hurricane Island.

Edwin stood beneath his banner, his faded boots crunching over the barnacle-strewn rocks. Behind him, his men stood in formation, their eyes fierce, their armor still bearing the bloodstains of the Stone Steps Islands. While other pirates wavered between flight and resistance, the former pirate leader drew his scimitar at the assembled forces, its tip pointing directly in the direction of the approaching Iron Fleet. "From this day forward!" Edwin stroked his beard and smiled, "The fiercest hurricanes of the Iron Islands will rise from here!"

""

Edwin Ramirez, who was once quite famous in the Lizard Islands, has returned.

Between the taverns and docks of the Lizard Islands, the story of Edwin Ramirez is gradually unearthed, like rocks exposed after the tide recedes, revealing the hidden threads beneath.

An old sailor squinted his dim eyes and recalled the two young figures who had sailed side by side across the Narrow Sea many years ago—Euron and Edwin. For three whole years, their footprints covered the dark alleys and palaces of the Free Trade City.

When Euron's forces pointed towards the Stepstone Islands, Edwin Ramirez, with his support, ascended to the position of the new pirate leader in that bloody sea. More astute observers added in hushed tones: before Edwin Ramirez left the Stepstone Islands, he had already transferred all the power of the pirate alliance to the rule of the Iron Islands without reservation.

The news spread like wildfire to every corner, and when the last piece of the puzzle fell, all the whispers converged on the same conclusion—

Edwin, standing on Axe Island at this moment, was never an opportunist. He was always a pawn Euron had laid out long ago.

As the pirates chugged down their cheap rum, they spat out curses at Edwin Ramirez through their teeth: "traitor," "lackey," "Euron's puppet."

But when they turned around and these tattooed outlaws actually stood on the beach of Axe Island, facing the man leaning against the helm and chuckling, they all bent over with their habitually plundering backs. They rubbed their rough hands together, their faces plastered with smiles more like cries, and suddenly forgot how to straighten their spines.

That's worse than a dog!

"Lord Edwin!" A one-eyed captain squeezed through the crowd and asked with a chuckle, "We've known each other for so many years, I should at least show my old brothers a way to survive."

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Edwin casually toyed with the coral-inlaid dagger, its tip carving deep and shallow grooves in the sand. He looked up, revealing gleaming white teeth, and replied with a grin, "Didn't the Iron Islands' declaration come three days ago? Surrender, or die. There is no third way!"

'

Edwin leaned against the faded ship's railing, his fingertips tapping absently on the hilt of his sword, producing a dull thud. He tilted his head, a mocking grin playing on his lips. "I advise you to choose the former. Since you're all standing before me, you must already have your answer, right?"

A pirate with a scar on his face pushed his way through the crowd and said in a gruff voice, "Surrender? The Iron Islands are far away. Even if we bow our heads today, what right do they have over this sea?"

"Are we supposed to put down our machetes and become miners in the mountains?" another voice rang out from the crowd, filled with suppressed discontent.

Edwin chuckled softly, his voice low, yet it instantly silenced the noisy crowd. He slowly straightened up, his gaze sweeping over the hesitant faces.

"That's none of your business." His tone was calm, yet carried undeniable weight. "Lord Euron has his own plans. Think of the Stone Steps Islands."

He paused deliberately, observing the complex expressions in everyone's eyes, and said calmly, "After the Iron Islands were established, our brothers there no longer had to live with their heads on the line, no longer had to be wanted by the navies of various countries, and no longer had to fight to the death with armed merchant ships. Now, just guarding the shipping lanes and collecting taxes is enough for them to live a life of plenty, more respectable than those pretentious lords."

Edwin lowered his voice, his serpentine eyes sweeping over his fellow pirates: "The only thing you need to figure out right now is whether you can truly submit to him. And there's also a '7'..."

"What skills do you possess that make you worthy of being noticed by that esteemed person?"

Edwin stood on the reef, watching another group of pirates sail away from Axehead Island in their dilapidated longship.

Those figures appeared exceptionally small amidst the turbulent waves, much like their wavering resolve.

The salty sea breeze whipped up tiny waves that lapped against the silent reefs. These outlaws needed time to process their fear, to retreat to the shadows and weigh the cost of submission against the possibility of resistance.

-

On the distant horizon, undercurrents are surging.

Deep within the squalidest tavern, in a lair adorned with shark heads, the Pirate King of the Basilisk Islands has issued the call to arms. Messengers sail swift ships between islands, carrying tokens engraved with skulls and scepters, summoning all those still hesitant.

In the largest lair of the lizard archipelago, a natural fortress known as "Blood Anchor Bay," torches are being lit one by one.

Sails from all directions gathered like a flock of crows, masts adorned with ferocious flags of various colors. Savage roars and the clanging of swords echoed through the night; they were brewing a storm, a frenzied counterattack that they believed could contend with the golden sea monster.

Edwin gazed at the darkening sea, a cold smile playing on his lips. He had always known that some fools wouldn't believe in death until they had witnessed hell firsthand.

It's nothing new for some to refuse to submit and want to test the strength of the Iron Islands on this lawless sea.

In the salty sea breeze, Edwin squinted toward Blood Anchor Bay, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the mottled rust on the hilt of his sword.

If these outlaws, who have spent half their lives licking blood from the edge of a knife, were to kneel and kowtow the moment the flag of the Iron Islands was raised, that would send chills down one's spine—either it meant they harbored a more insidious scheme, or something even more terrifying than pirates had bred in these waters.

Edwin chuckled and casually tossed the empty rum bottle into the waves. Amidst the churning foam, one could almost hear the roars and clanging of swords from a distant lair.

"Someone has to use blood to polish the signboard," Edwin muttered to himself, a bloodthirsty excitement flashing in his eyes. "That way, the spoils hanging on the wall will look even more valuable."

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