Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

In the chilly main hall of Pike Place, the salty scent of the sea breeze mingled with the damp cold of the stone walls. Earl Owen Marie Weiss sat upright, his fingertips tapping impatiently on the table, finally breaking the silence with an aggressive tone:

"Haven't the Iron Islands received orders from King's Landing, from His Majesty the King?"

Euron met his gaze calmly: "Received, my lord. We take it very seriously. In fact, my father was extremely anxious the moment he received the order, and even personally sailed to Braavos, hoping to exchange for enough grain from the other side of the Narrow Sea to fulfill the king's command."

"King Coron isn't on the island because of this?" Marie Weiss narrowed his eyes and pressed, "And your brother Baron? Did he go with you?"

"During the three long winters, Baron had three more children. His father-in-law, Lord Harlo, has yet to see his grandchildren. Even before the winter had completely passed, he had written several times urging them to come." Euron answered fluently and calmly. "Before learning of your imminent arrival, Baron had already set off for Harlo Island, bringing his children to fulfill his elders' longing."

"The King's order is clear: requisition grain from the entire realm! The grain must be delivered to King's Landing within a month!" Mariewes raised his voice, attempting to intimidate.

"Winter has just passed, and the new harvest has not yet begun," Euron's tone remained calm, yet carried an undeniable force of fact. "There is no surplus grain throughout the land, my lord, especially in the Iron Islands. It is a well-known fact throughout the Seven Kingdoms that we do not produce grain. We have only salt, iron, and fish, and our poverty is equally well-known. Every grain of wheat we eat depends on imports."

"But the king heard that you brought back three ships full of grain from across the Narrow Sea." The count's voice turned sharp.

"Yes, they were there half a month ago," Euron readily admitted, "but now, they've been traded for by other lords in exchange for golden dragons, timber, and ironware. What's left is barely enough for the Ironborn to survive until the next harvest season."

"Are you trying to disobey orders?!" Marie Weiss slammed his hand on the table and shouted angrily.

"Which law of the Seven Kingdoms requires lords to hand over their grain, the food they depend on for survival, without compensation, and then watch their people starve to death?" Euron retorted, his voice still steady, yet carrying a cold, hard conviction. "We are not disobeying orders, my lord; we simply have no grain to hand over."

The relationship between the king and his lord was based on an ancient contract, not absolute royal power. The king could not demand money or provisions from his lord without compensation; the rights and obligations of both parties were reciprocal. The lord was required to swear allegiance to the king, provide military support (such as conscription), judicial assistance, and, in certain circumstances, economic aid. The king was obligated to protect the lord's safety, confirm his ownership of his fiefdom, and uphold the fairness of the law. Therefore, the lord could completely refuse to comply with the mad king's order to requisition provisions without compensation.

But as for appropriate financial assistance, that depends on the mood of each lord...

"The King is furious, and the consequences will be severe!" Earl Owen Mariewes leaned forward abruptly, attempting to intimidate the young man before him, his voice sharp and threatening. "Earl Layton Hightower's Green Pavilion fleet has raised its battle flag and is ready to set sail at any moment to crush any rebel stronghold!"

Euron's face remained as calm as the sea, showing no ripples. Only in the depths of his heterochromatic pupils did the temperature suddenly drop, as if the ice of the North had solidified.

[Conqueror's Haki] Activated!

His voice wasn't loud, yet it pierced the tense atmosphere clearly, each word like a meticulously crafted icicle: "My lord," he began slowly, his tone unreadable, "are your words and actions now representing the Iron Throne, threatening war to force the Iron Islands to submit to an order we are utterly incapable of fulfilling?"

"It wasn't me! It was the King!" Count Marie Weiss cried out as if burned, immediately disclaiming any connection and attributing everything to the mad king high above the Red Castle.

"That is precisely why," Euron's voice suddenly sharpened, pinpointing the other's identity, "that as the Chancellor, as the Hand of the King—when His Majesty might issue inappropriate orders, even those that could lead to the division and bloodshed of the kingdom, due to flawed intelligence or momentary anger, you, Hand of the King—Earl Owen Mariewes, is it not your duty to offer advice and prudently dissuade? Is the Hand of the King merely a mouthpiece, or even... a cheerleader for war?"

These words were like an invisible slap in the face, striking Irving Marie Weiss in his most vulnerable spot—his hard-won but baseless position as Prime Minister, and his reputation for sycophancy and lack of integrity. His face instantly flushed red with shame and indignation. He slammed his hand on the table and stood up abruptly, causing the cups and saucers on the table to rattle loudly.

"You!" He roared, his finger trembling with rage as he pointed at Euron. "You think you can tell me what to do?! A mere Iron Islands brat, how dare you criticize the Hand of the King on how to perform his duties?!"

The air in the hall seemed to freeze, and the gazes of the two Imperial Guards instantly sharpened, focusing on the center of this suddenly escalating conflict.

"The Iron Islands," Euron's voice suddenly rose, clear and cold, resounding like a thousand-year-old reef crashing against the ground in a storm, "never accepting threats, and never fearing war!"

His words resonated in the cold hall, and before the echoes had faded, a deeper and more unsettling change suddenly occurred. As his gaze swept over the three envoys like a cold blade, an invisible pressure descended—not a physical force, but one that felt as heavy as a physical entity, like the terrifying pressure of water beneath the deep sea, instantly enveloping the entire space.

This was his awakened Conqueror's Haki, which he deliberately and controlled to release at this moment.

Earl Owen Marie Weiss, who was directly in the eye of the storm, turned deathly pale in an instant. He felt a suffocating palpitation, as if a cold hand had gripped his heart. He instinctively tried to back away, but his legs went weak, his upright posture swayed, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. He hurriedly grabbed the table to barely maintain his composure.

The two Kingsguard behind him reacted quite differently. Almost instinctively, Ser Arthur Dayne, "Sword of the Dawn," instantly placed his right hand on the hilt of "Dawn," his handsome face unusually solemn, his usually calm eyes flashing with a sharp, eagle-like alertness. His aura was restrained, like a taut bowstring, silently resisting the crushing force purely from will and spirit. Leven Martell beside him adopted a similar defensive stance, the Dornish characteristic languor instantly replaced by a warrior's alertness.

However, at this critical juncture, Euron's imposing manner suddenly subsided. He leaned back slightly, his tone softening, as if a shrewd businessman were beginning to search for a compromise in his open ledger. His previous defiant stance, which had been ready to fight, was cleverly wrapped in a pragmatic suggestion: "Actually, things might not have to escalate to such a serious point."

When the Conqueror's Haki stopped being actively released, the aura gradually faded, and Arthur Dayne and Levin Martell, the "Sword of the Dawn," realized their lapse in composure and loosened their grip on the sword hilts.

But they were all shocked by the pressure and threat Euron Greyjoy had exuded when he spoke—it was the aura of a superior and a strong person!