Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

The morning mist had not yet been completely dispelled by the sea breeze, and while Lord Owen Marie Weiss, the Hand of the King, was still lost in the tender dream woven by the two Reese's maidens, Ser Arthur Dayne had already risen. Drawn by a crisp, rhythmic clang of metal coming from outside the castle, he strolled toward the source of the sound.

On the cold, grey sands below Pike City, he saw Euron Greyjoy practicing his swordsmanship.

The boy, shirtless, had clearly defined muscles in the morning light and sea mist, exuding the suppleness and explosive power of a cheetah. He was locked in combat with a Braavos water dancer, his twin swords swirling like silver snakes, his movements almost eerie, leaving barely perceptible shallow marks on the sand.

Arthur Dayne stood watching, a fleeting, almost imperceptible admiration crossing his deep purple eyes. A moment later, Euron noticed the renowned observer. He deftly twirled his practice sword, then stood still, beads of sweat trickling down his young, angular face. Without pausing for breath, he looked intently at the legendary Kingsguard, extending an invitation:

"Ser Arthur Dayne," his voice was clear and resonant after his morning exercise, "I have long heard of the renowned 'Sword of the Dawn' resounding throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Would it be honorable to have you join the fray and offer your guidance?"

Arthur Dayne—this knight with the Targaryen family’s signature pale blond hair and purple eyes, his figure towering like a moving white tower, his silver armor and snow-white cloak seeming to radiate a faint light in the dim morning light.

The sword he carried on his back was the legendary greatsword "Dawn." Forged from meteorite iron, its blade possessed a unique milky-white, glassy texture. Even within its sheath, it seemed to emanate a faint glow, as if alive. It was said that the light it emitted in battle was like the dawn's first light, hence its wielder was hailed as the "Sword of Dawn."

A gentle yet dignified smile appeared on the true knight's face, and he nodded with pleasure. "It is my honor," he said in a deep, magnetic voice. He unfastened "Dawn," carefully placing it aside, then took two practice longswords from the weapon rack and stepped into the arena. He was never stingy in instructing his respected juniors.

In the time that followed, the cold beach below Pike Town became the best training ground.

The sword winds grew increasingly fierce, each clash unleashing precise and powerful sparks.

Ser Arthur Dayne was clearly not using his full strength; his movements were effortless yet as unshakeable as a rock. His parries were not head-on collisions, but rather deflected Euron's sword tip with minimal movement at the last moment, producing a crisp and rhythmic clash. His evasions were as if he could foresee the future, always managing to dodge the most threatening attacks by the slightest margin, his snow-white cloak fluttering in the wind without being stained by a speck of dust. And his seemingly casual counterattacks always targeted the most vulnerable openings Euron made when he exerted force, forcing him to hastily change his tactics.

This legendary Imperial Guard, like a master immersed in artistic creation, calmly imparted his skills amidst the clash of swords.

In the instant the two swords clashed, Euron parried Arthur Dayne's powerful yet effortless downward slash, a tremendous pressure transmitted through the blades, almost causing Euron's arm to go numb. In that stalemate, Euron's mind stirred, and he silently activated the ability from the One Piece system—[Power Test - Lv1].

In an instant, the scene before him seemed to subtly change. Beside Ser Arthur Dayne's imposing and focused figure, several lines of semi-transparent data, visible only to him, quietly appeared, coldly and precisely outlining the legendary knight's power:

Arthur Dayne – Sword of the Morning

Strength: 32 (Terrifying physical strength far exceeding that of ordinary people, enough to wield that legendary greatsword)

Agility: 38 (An astonishing speed and coordination that belies his massive physique, like a cheetah)

Stamina: 36 (Possesses near-infinite stamina, capable of sustaining prolonged high-intensity combat)

Spirit: 19 (Strong will, single-minded, and highly resistant to magic and mental influences)

Leadership: 29 (A natural leader who can easily win the trust and loyalty of soldiers)

Charisma: 25 (His personal charisma and chivalry are captivating, the highest Euron has ever seen)

A faint warning message, like a streak of blood, flickered below the data: [Hint: Beware of the magic on his greatsword.]

Euron was deeply shaken, using the opportunity of parrying and retreating to quickly process this information. Such high personal attributes! And they were extremely well-balanced; the three core combat attributes—strength, agility, and stamina—all exceeded the mortal limit of 30 points, with almost no obvious weaknesses. What caught his attention even more was the charisma attribute of 25 points. This wasn't just about appearance; it was an aura deeply rooted in the soul, inspiring awe and conviction in those who beheld him. Arthur Dayne, truly worthy of the name "Sword of the Dawn," his very existence, like the divine sword "Dawn" he carried, was an insurmountable peak.

Arthur Dayne's calm tone cut through the whistling of weapons: "Good speed," he said, dodging a swift thrust with a flick of his wrist, the blade striking Euron's forearm with precision—a light touch, but enough to interrupt the attack. "But your eyes and the slight movement of your shoulder betrayed your intentions. The anticipation was too obvious; a master would exploit that."

Euron took a step back, panting, and quickly adjusted himself.

"Pay attention to the force," Sir Arthur continued, not pursuing, but demonstrating by thrusting his sword forward with fluid grace. His entire body's power seemed to be concentrated at the tip of the sword, unleashing astonishing penetrating force, yet stopping abruptly at the end, controlled to the finest degree. "The power is concentrated at a single point, not dispersed throughout the entire movement. Like waves crashing against rocks, not tides washing over the beach."

He then parried Euron's powerful, cross-sword strike, skillfully deflecting and neutralizing the immense force of the impact. "See, you've dispersed your own power. If I hadn't retreated but instead attacked here," his sword tip instantly pointed at Euron's slightly exposed ribs from the exertion, "you would have been defeated."

Euron's pupils contracted slightly as he deeply realized the difference in their abilities.

"And watch your flank!" Sir Arthur's voice rose slightly, and he suddenly changed his pace, his figure gliding like a ghost towards Euron's left blind spot. The tip of his sword lightly touched Euron's lower back again. "There are no rules in real combat. The enemy will not be merciful and attack you only from the front. Your dual swords are an advantage, but they may also make you too focused on what's in front and neglect your surroundings."

His guidance was by no means harsh; every word hit the nail on the head, containing the wisdom accumulated from countless battles and insights gained from life and death. On this beach at dawn, accompanied by the rhythm of the waves and the clear sound of the blade, a swordsmanship inheritance that transcends age and status is taking place in the most direct and profound way.

Euron was completely absorbed, his eyes shining like stars as he greedily absorbed every word and every movement of one of the strongest swordsmen of his time.