Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

262, Battle of the Shield Islands

It is said that with just a glance from Aeron the Damphair, the Ironborn will obediently let the sea wash away their ignorance and vanity, and tremble as they accept the baptism of the Drowned God.

But this majesty has no effect on the Serenity.

Aeron Greyjoy retched, the scorching sun burned his forehead, and his wet long hair became dry, feeling like stroking firewood.

He was tied to the bow, facing the sun with the mouthless girl beside him.

Aeron licked his dry lips with his tongue, and a stinging pain was like a predator's sharp blade slashing at himself.

The priest of the Drowned God looked around the deck, sailors and crews of all kinds, mutes and mixed-blood bastards doing their work in silence.

Black men as dark as asphalt, short and hairy guys like apes, half-faced people with scales on half of their faces and skinless on the other half of their faces.

A group of monsters, Aeron's legs stretched and retracted helplessly.

The sun ruthlessly swept his cheeks and eyes, so that his cheeks seemed to be pressed against burning charcoal, and his eyes seemed to be melting.

A door gradually appeared in front of him, Aeron's lips began to tremble, and the rusty iron chain shook violently.

"No, no, the dead do not die, the dead do not die! The dead do not die! The dead do not die!" He began to pray non-stop, and the prayer became louder and louder, so that in the end, it was unclear what he was saying, and only Aeron could be heard screaming.

"Admit it, brother," Euron finally came, and the huge figure submerged himself, like the tentacles of a sea monster spreading himself, "Your faith comes from fear, fear of me."

Bullshit, Aeron wanted to curse him loudly, wanted to accuse him, accuse him of blasphemy, accuse him of imprisoning his relatives, and accuse him of his real purpose not to revive the Iron People, but to satisfy his selfish desires

But when it came to his lips, it became, "Where am I?" Aeron surrendered.

"Where are you?" Euron seemed to be amused by this sentence. His blood-red silk cloak fluttered, but it must not be blown by the wind. Aeron did not feel the wind. "You are where your king wants you to be."

But, Aeron thought to himself.

"But," Euron sipped the wine, his movements were elegant and gentle, as if the bugs and mice around him did not affect his mood at all. "I am a compassionate person," he threw the wine glass off the boat and pointed to the front. "A beautiful ceremony is being held in front, a ceremony that satisfies everyone, the honor of the iron race, plunder, and conquest."

Aeroen wanted to straighten his upper body, but was pressed by Euron's shoes. The iron pieces on his shirt collided with each other, making a familiar sound.

In front of him, the rusty iron door chain that rubbed in his childhood appeared again.

The whole body instantly collapsed.

"Our dear Victarion, my brave brother, the king's warrior who pursues honor, is fighting for his king." Euron's words were still in his ears, but Aeron smelled a strange smell, which did not taste like wine.

This is the Shield Islands, Aeron thought, but he didn't know which island it was.

Euron left, and several mute sailors came over and took away his robe, shoes and socks, and even his loincloth.

I still have the Drowned God, Aeron thought, "I curse you." He said to the sailors.

The chain was pulled away fiercely, and Aeron was forced to lie on the deck, holding the mouthless iron statue of the girl on the bow with both hands and looking forward.

Dozens of longships, fallen towns, sesame-sized castles, and ports that were plundered.

Then there was a fainting spell, and the sailors knocked him out and dragged him to the bottom of the cabin.

Victarion cut off the hand of the Knight of Oakenshield Island, and blood spurted out. He ignored the knight's heartbreaking wailing and begging for mercy. The great axe smashed the knight's face, and the knight immediately shut up.

But there was still a lot of noise around, and Victarion raised his head and looked at the town.

The ships at the port were either sunk or occupied by the Ironborn, and the heads and limbs of the sailors on the ships were scattered on the sea like cheap pieces of paper.

He glanced at the soldiers who resisted indifferently. Most of them were unarmored and probably just fishermen.

"I surrender~" The begging for mercy was not sympathized by the Ironborn. The plunderer's flying axe shattered this dream and stabbed into the neck of the beggar.

The Ironborn frantically searched for treasures and women, and the old people and children who got in the way were dealt with with flying axes and long swords. Civilians fled in all directions like a group of rats, and the noise and miserable wails spread throughout the town like plague.

Victarion's eyes moved back and forth. His sailors tore women's hair and dragged them into the longboat for gang rape. The old man, fisherman and fisherwoman who rowed the boat with full baskets of fish were drowned in the sea, and the red sank to the bottom, and the soaked and wrinkled skin floated on the surface.

Killing, raping, looting, the Ironborn were scattered all over the town, and the laughter of victory was everywhere.

Victarion ignored all this and walked straight into the castle.

"Go to hell!" A crowd of people surrounded him, and the leader was holding a knight's long sword.

The giant axe hit him in the face, and the leader fell to the ground, and his courage faded.

Victarion looked at them, "Where is Humphrey?" He called the name of the Earl of Oakenshield Island.

The Earl sat on a chair behind the crowd, with the dagger in his hand pointed at his neck.

His eyes were full of fear, and he looked at Victarion in a trance, his pupils constricted, "Heytoar, Highgarden and Duke Tywin will never let you go!"

Victarion took off his sea monster helmet and threw it on the long table in the middle, raised the giant axe, stood directly in front of the Earl, raised his chin, "Cut your own throat."

"You" The Earl's hand holding the dagger softened a little, but it fell off in a moment, the dagger fell to the ground, and the whole person also fell to the ground.

Victarion nodded, turned around, took back his helmet, and walked out of the hall.

Earl Humphrey Hewitt was gagged and tied to a stool.

His wife and daughter walked naked through the banquet. Victarion could not hear the crying sound, because the youngest daughter who cried first had been dragged to a long ship of the iron race. When the heart-wrenching wailing stopped, the earl's wife and daughter stopped crying.

Euron tasted the delicacies of the island, as if he was eroding his honor. Victarion stared at his brother. The iron races around him knew it well and did not provoke him, but just asked for wine.

Euron did not seem to notice that he liked the earl's illegitimate daughter very much, holding his face and kissing him.

"Killing the enemy is one thing," Victarion said, "insulting him is another."

The surrounding iron people were silent, looking at Euron above the banquet uneasily, while the latter looked at Earl Hewitt beside him without caring.

A teasing voice came from Euron, "Come and kill him."

Victarion stood up, holding a huge axe in his hand, and approached the earl, that is, approached Euron, his eyes never stopped watching Euron.

An uneasy commotion appeared behind Victarion. They thought I was going to chop off Euron's head? Wrong.

Victarion smiled disdainfully and raised the huge axe.

The earl's face festered wildly, and hoarse screams came out of the earl's mouth. Victarion saw that there was no tongue inside.

The earl lowered his head without saying a word, and the wailing and crying of his wife and daughter sounded again, louder than when they came to serve naked.

The illegitimate daughter lying in Euron's arms seemed to have her soul sucked by a sea monster, her body was stiff, and her eyes were empty.

"Poison is a tool for the despicable." Victarion stared at Euron, slowly put down the huge axe, and returned to his seat silently.

He stared at the food on his plate. Euron was not the will of the Drowned God, but the recommendation of a bunch of fools.

Where is Aeron? Victarion pursed his lips and sighed heavily.