Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 396 Fly Island - Forgiveness?

Lisa reported the relevant information in the operations room.

The seven main islands of the Lizard Islands are scattered like seven venomous fangs on the dark green sea—Axe Island cleaves through the waves, Howling Mountain Island roars in the fog, Fly Island gathers filth, the towering Tear Island is often covered with salt frost, Toad Island lies crawling in the swamp, the white rocks of Skull Island are piled up in the shape of a skull, and the reefs of Claw Island are like the claws of a raptor.

Each island is ruled by a pirate king, and the seven factions maintain a fragile balance under the ancient law of "survival of the fittest." On the surface, they are sworn brothers, but in secret, they are constantly sharpening the knives behind each other's backs.

Upon hearing this information, King Baron grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth: "Seven islands, we have exactly seven island lords!" He counted on his thick fingers, saying, "One for each of us, fair and reasonable!"

This pirate-like, blunt suggestion prompted Lord Drum to stomp his studded boots on the deck, while Lord Gubler smashed his wine flask against the mooring bollard with a cheer. It wasn't until they heard Euron's knuckles tap the hull three times, like a blade scraping against the keel, that they stopped.

The commotion abruptly stopped.

The two island lords realized that this was not a tactic at all, and Baron scratched his beard as if the frenzy from before had never existed.

Lisa's lips curved into a faint smile as her fingertips moved westward across the rough nautical chart, landing on the outline of an island resembling rotting food. "According to the established strategy," she said calmly, "the first target is Fly Island, the westernmost island."

The "Bone Brotherhood" is based here—a group of outright outlaws. Her tone turned cold. "They don't worship gods, they only believe in their own barbaric philosophy that bones are tougher than life; they don't collect gold or silver, they're obsessed with collecting weapons, and—the heads of their enemies."

She paused briefly, letting the information sink into the listeners' hearts: "The Brotherhood of Bones has a supreme leader, four lieutenants, and over two thousand pirates. Their main business is the slave trade, and because of their geographical proximity to Nas Island—"

Lisa paused slightly here, her gaze rising to silently fall on Euron's face before she slowly uttered the rest of her sentence: "Their 'goods' are mainly Nath people."

She spoke the last few words softly and slowly, like a piece of ice sliding into the silent air.

Euron nodded expressionlessly: "Continue!"

Leader: "Old Bones" Colin, a sixty-year-old man, with a body as thin as dried ship timber, skin wrinkled like cracked parchment, and a black pearl dug out of a slave owner's skull embedded in his left eye socket.

He was originally the "Bloody Hand Pirate" who roamed the Narrow Sea thirty years ago. Due to a dispute over the loot, he was stabbed in the abdomen by his own crew and drifted to Fly Island with barely a breath left. He used the rotten mud from the swamp to treat his wound and survived by eating dead crabs and rotten coconuts on the island. From then on, he became the "living totem" of the Brotherhood.

Colin's motto was: "The living can lie to you, but bones won't." The hilt of his sword was pieced together from the finger bones of seventeen pirates who had betrayed him, and he carved a bone mark on the scabbard for each one he killed—now the scabbard is covered with marks, like a piece of old tree bark crawling with maggots.

Secondary Leader: "Blood Axe" Thor, a burly man in his thirties, with his right arm thicker than his left, and crossed battle axes tattooed on the bulging muscles.

He was an orphan rescued by Colin from a slave ship, and his superhuman strength made him the Brotherhood's "slashing machine." Thor's favorite game was "slashing prisoners alive," using a two-handed battle axe to split a person in half from head to toe, watching their intestines slide out like snakes.

Second-in-command: "Poison Bait" Lila, a forty-year-old woman, short and stout, always wearing a leather apron covered in mud.

She came from a pirate family; her grandfather had been a poison master for slave traders. From a young age, she learned to concoct all sorts of deadly poisons: the juice of rotten bone grass from swamps, the poisonous liquid fermented from rotting coconut meat, and even powder ground from dead people's fingernails. She would bury poisoned sharp stakes in shallow waters, hang poisoned fishing nets in coconut groves, and throw rotting flesh into enemy ships' buckets—"Let them drink our excrement!" she always boasted.

In addition, she is rumored to be proficient in blood magic.

Second-in-command: Hawkeye Coz, a skinny fifty-year-old man with sunken eyes like an old raven, and fingertips always stained with ink. He was originally a scout on the Reese merchant ship, but was gouged out of one eye and thrown into the sea for stealing the captain's gold and silver. After drifting to Fly Island, he became the Brotherhood's "Eye".

Koz could travel ten miles in the receding swamp, smell the number of enemy ships in the wind, and even determine the enemy's supply route by observing the flight path of seabirds.

Second-in-command: "Butcher" Booker, a 25-year-old young man with a scar running from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth, always carrying a serrated butcher's axe. He is Colin's "executioner," responsible for cleaning up the corpses of traitors and torturing prisoners.

Lisa laid out five rough but lifelike portraits one by one on the rough chart table. The faces, drawn with charcoal, were lifelike, every scar and sinister look seemingly carrying the bloody scent from the depths of the sea breeze.

Euron's gaze swept over the portrait, he nodded, and said calmly, "If they do not submit by the time the three-day deadline we gave them arrives, then they have chosen the second path."

One should be trustworthy: if you say you'll be within three days, then you'll be within three days, not a minute earlier or a second later.

King Baron slammed his fist on the table, making the portrait rattle. "Nothing to say! Kill!"

Euron's gaze shifted to the other six island lords, his heterochromatic eyes revealing no emotion: "And you? What are your thoughts?"

His response was a synchronized, ferocious grin, like a swarm of sharks smelling blood. Lord Guberle licked his dry lips, Lord Zhuogu's knuckles cracked as they clenched their fists, and a low growl rumbled from their throats: "Kill them all!"

Amidst the pervasive bloodlust, Euron gently tapped the table and added, "There might still be slaves in their dungeons that they haven't had time to remove. Keep an eye on things when you make your move."

The whale oil lamps in the low-ceilinged hall of the Brotherhood of Bones on Fly Island crackled and hissed, casting flickering light on five distorted faces. The salty sea breeze carried the scent of the ocean.

They squeezed through the cracks in the rocks, but the anxiety and fear that permeated the air could not be dispelled.

The leader, "Old Bones" Colin, pressed his withered hand on the rough wooden table, his voice hoarse like a millstone: "The Lord of the Sea Beasts, Euron Greyjoy, commands twenty thousand Ironborn. In a day, his fleet will appear on our coastline. Gentlemen, speak."

"Iron Islands cowards?" "Bloodaxe" Thor spat out a chewed crab leg, its foul juices splattering onto the table. "I've cleaved reefs harder than their keel at Cape Storm!"

Hawkeye Coz wiped his brass binoculars, a clear-eyed despair gleaming in his single eye: "I've seen their sea kings with my own eyes—an ancient force capable of unleashing tsunamis. We're fighting a storm with a sampan."

"Butcher" Booker shoved aside the empty liquor can in front of him: "He said he wanted to protect Nas Island! Seventy percent of our wealth comes from there. What are we if we lay down our swords? Go dig potatoes?"

"Poisoned bait," Lila said, twirling a poisoned dagger between her fingers. "Our castle isn't just for show. If they dare to attack, I'll make every single rock ooze poison."

"Old Bones" Colin slammed his fist on the table, his bony fingers pointing to the dark sea outside the window: "At sea, we don't even have the right to resist. They outnumber us ten to one. Who among you can really take on ten of them?" He looked around at everyone, his voice low and menacing, "Let's negotiate. This is our only way out."

Koz raised his one eye: "What are our bottom lines?"

Under the dim light, Colin's wrinkles were deep and etched: "Hold onto the territory, keep the brothers, maintain—all the business except for Nass Island. We're willing to let the Iron Islands' golden krait flag fly on our islands."

"Since Euron Greyjoy has personally promised to place Nath under his wing—" Colin's hoarse voice was particularly jarring in the silence. His thin fingers slowly tightened, his knuckles turning white from the force, "We can only offer our utmost sincerity—" He paused for a moment, as if struggling to vomit his own entrails: "Give up Nath."

As his words fell, only the crackling of the burning lamp wick remained in the stone hall. Colin looked around at his companions' shocked and contorted faces, trying to find approval in their eyes.

"This is the strongest bargaining chip we can offer," Colin murmured, believing that this forced concession would be enough to earn the conqueror's forgiveness.