Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 434 Turani – The New City Lord Jonathan Wagner

When the figure surrounded by flames and lightning hovered in the air, issuing its final ultimatum in a godlike manner, the last shred of will to resist on and around the walls of Turani completely collapsed.

Like waves of wheat swept by an invisible scythe, the dark mass of people knelt down in droves.

The soldiers threw down their spears, and the officers put down their swords. All pride, courage, and honor as warriors of Thunder Island seemed so laughable and insignificant in the face of that inhuman power.

They looked at Euron with awe, their gaze mirroring that of someone gazing up at the cold idols in a temple—filled with fear.

Confusion, and a primal awe of absolute power that originates from the depths of the soul.

Euron's display of power to control wind, fire, thunder, and lightning transcended the boundaries of the mortal realm; it was a scene that existed only in ancient mythology.

"Gods—forgive us—" an old soldier trembled as he pressed his forehead to the cold ground.

"It's the sun god! He's the incarnation of the sun god!" someone screamed, looking at the raging flames.

"No! It's the God-King who wields thunder!" another person retorted, staring at the flashing lightning.

"The Lord of Storms! He must be a sea deity who summons hurricanes!"

Chaotic, awe-inspiring shouts rose and fell from the crowd.

They fanatically and indiscriminately bestowed upon Euron Greyjoy the names of every god they knew, whether they were rulers of war, fire, thunder, or storms. At this moment, they were not praying to a known god, but witnessing and worshipping a living, breathing, more powerful, and more direct god walking among men.

They knelt in their own fear and shock, and also in the face of a new faith that was being forcibly constructed.

As Euren, suspended in mid-air, heard the lingering echoes of submission and death, he experienced a strange change that transcended the five senses.

Not through the ears, but directly through the soul, he "heard" countless thin, faintly glowing threads rising from each of the kneeling Turani residents below, penetrating the air between them, ignoring physical distance, and quietly connecting to the depths of his consciousness.

This is the thread of faith.

They are as fragile as newly sprouted spider silk, yet they contain a certain resilient essence.

Each thread conveys a subtle yet clear energy—a mixture of fear, awe, supplication, and absolute obedience, the purest offering of the soul after relinquishing its self.

This newly born power of faith, like a gentle stream, continuously flowed into the "ocean" of his spirit. It was not a violent torrent of power, but a deeper, more essential replenishment. Euron clearly felt as if his soul was being immersed in a warm current, and an indescribable sense of euphoria rippled from the core of his consciousness, like the finest wine, bringing a tipsy sense of satisfaction and tranquility.

The feeling was fleeting, yet incredibly real. It wasn't just an emotional response; it was a subtle growth in the foundation of his power, a symbol of his authority being recognized. He slowly closed his eyes, letting the myriad threads of faith sway gently.

While the charred remains of Achim Arnold still emitted a pungent odor from the city walls, his deputy lord strode confidently out of the crowd.

The white-haired old general didn't even glance at the remains of his former lord. He walked straight to the spot directly below where Euron was suspended, knelt on one knee with the clanging of his armor, bowed his head deeply, and held the sword symbolizing the Turanian military power above his head with both hands.

"In the name of the ancient loess and the rock," his voice was loud and clear, echoing on the silent city walls, "Turani submits to you, Lord Greyjoy."

There was no hesitation, no questioning, and not a trace of resentment. This overly decisive submission demonstrated power more than any fierce resistance—an absolute power that left no room for resistance, leaving only utter submission.

The flames and lightning surrounding Euron gradually dissipated, and the wind element gently lifted him to the ground. He looked down at the sensible deputy city lord at his feet, a smile playing on his lips.

It seems that Turani has finally found its "wiser leader".

Youlun's gaze fell on the pragmatic deputy city lord before him. The oppressive aura that could suffocate ordinary people subsided slightly, and he nodded slightly, asking, "What is your name?"

The deputy city lord bowed even lower, his posture humble and submissive, and his voice came through clearly: "My lord, my name is Jonathan Wagner."

"Jonathan Wagner," Euron repeated, as if engraving the name into the future destiny of this place, "from this moment on, you are the new lord of Tulani."

He didn't ask Jonathan's consent, nor did he make any promises; this in itself was an unquestionable decree. Without waiting for a response, Euron continued, his tone carrying an undeniable air of authority: "Come with me to Ray Ma. Her Majesty the Queen awaits our audience."

As the words fell, the wind element "Berova" gathered once more, the air currents lifting Euron and gently yet firmly lifting Jonathan Wagner. The flying shadow let out a deep roar, its massive dragon head lowering. The two landed on the dragon's back, one after the other, Jonathan not even having time to glance once more at the city he had just taken over.

The dragon's wings flapped, stirring up dust, and carrying the end of the old Turani and its new ruler, it soared into the sky once more, transforming into a black lightning bolt as it sped toward Re Ma, leaving behind awe and silence on the city walls.

As the enormous shadow of the Flying Shadow swept across the spire of the Rema Palace once more, slowly descending upon the central courtyard with the force of wind and thunder, the Queen and Prime Minister Roxon, who had been waiting there, exchanged a complex glance.

The dragon bent down, and Euron nimbly leaped off its back.

Jonathan Wagner, following behind him, looked rather disheveled, having almost tumbled off the dragon's back and staggered a few steps before regaining his footing on the paved ground. He quickly straightened his robes, trying to maintain a semblance of decorum in this unfamiliar center of power.

Euron didn't even glance back at his new subordinate; his gaze fell directly on the Queen and Luo Xiong, and he said indifferently, "Achim Arnold was unwilling to come, so I replaced him with someone else."

His gaze turned to Jonathan, who had just regained his footing, and he said, "Jonathan Wagner, from today onwards, is the new lord of Tulani."

Short, direct, and unquestionable. A single sentence decided the future of the northern fortress.

Before anyone could process this information, Euron waved his hand casually, as if he had just dealt with a trivial matter, and said, "Alright, now the three cities are gathered." He stretched lazily, "Let's eat and talk business. I'm hungry."

Luo Xiong, who had been standing by his side, immediately stepped forward and bowed slightly, saying, "My lord, the banquet is ready. Please follow me and take your seats."