Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web.

The sun cast its rays from the southwest, illuminating the starboard side of the tranquil Iron Fleet.

Beneath the light.

The red-hulled, black-sailed "Silence" had acquired a new ornament.

The ornament was located at the bow.

It was a naked maiden lashed to a spar, right next to the figurehead.

The maiden had long legs, a narrow waist, and high, firm breasts. Her arms were stretched out straight, and the sea breeze blew her hair high, revealing a face of desolate silence.

Those who knew her could still recognize her: Mia Hetherspoon, the bastard daughter of Fair Isle.

Though, save for the color of living flesh and the mottled bloodstains, she was almost identical to the maiden figurehead made of black iron.

And she was not the only one.

King Euron had made a point of sharing this amusement with all the warships.

Lord Farman, Jeyne Farman, monks, knights… the spoils of war were all displayed proudly at the bow, to boost morale.

King Euron said:

"Let them feel the sea spray at the bow; it is the Drowned God's kiss, wet and salty."

The Ironborn all knew this to be true.

The sea was indeed salty. And this was indeed the Drowned God's kiss.

What is dead may never die!

The raging sea was the Ironborn's domain! The Iron Islands would rule the Seven Kingdoms!

The invincible sea monster would smash the shield of Highgarden!

To that end, the mighty longship fleet sailed straight from Fair Isle to the Shield Islands, not nearing the coast for days.

But even after sailing out of sight of land, into the mysterious depths of the sea, the surface remained calm and gentle, and the wind was still incredibly favorable.

The fleet was unscathed, as if blessed by the gods.

Indeed!

What other explanation could there be? The Drowned God had blessed this war!

The confidence of the Ironborn reavers swelled to unprecedented levels, as if the sweet fruit of victory was already within their grasp.

And they certainly had reason to be confident.

Now, the longship fleet had silently approached its target, the warriors had sharpened their swords to a razor's edge, and the invincible sea monster was escorting them from beneath the waves.

What could stop the Ironborn's advance?

Here it was!

The first shield, Grey Shield!

They were close enough to see the harbor on the island. As expected, it was completely unprepared, its defenses so weak as to be almost nonexistent.

The fleet no longer concealed itself, blowing horns and beating war drums as it advanced!

"Smash the shields!"

The reavers of the Iron Islands all loathed these detestable shields.

"The Mander will be ours again!"

The Mander's waters, flowing deep into the Reach, were gentle, wide, and full of treacherous reefs and sandbars. Most seagoing vessels dared not pass Highgarden, but the longships had a shallow draft and could sail upstream all the way to Bitterbridge.

It was practically a raiding route custom-made for the Iron Islands.

"Take Highgarden!"

The Iron Islands would certainly not overlook such a godsend.

In ancient times, the Ironborn had bravely sailed into the river, plundering the banks of the Mander and its tributaries, unopposed. The weak Reachmen farmers could only tremble and cower as they watched the river, terrified by the sight of longships.

Until the king of the Greenblood armed the fishermen on the four small islands at the mouth of the Mander, ordering them to be his shields.

Annoying shields!

Two thousand years had passed, but along the jagged coastline of these islands, gray-bearded old men still maintained their vigil in the watchtowers, following ancient traditions.

As soon as they saw a longship, they would light a beacon, sending the message from one hilltop to another, from one island to another. Alarm! Enemy! Raiders! Raiders!

The burning flames on the heights gave them courage they did not deserve.

The fishermen put down their nets and plows, and picked up swords and axes. Their lords rushed out of their castles, leading knights and soldiers.

From Green Shield to Grey Shield, from Oak Shield to South Shield, the horns of war echoed across the water, and counterattacking ships quietly sailed out of moss-covered stone caves along the coast, oars flying, pouring into the strait, blocking the Mander, and driving the raiders upstream to be destroyed.

The longships could no longer freely sail into the Mander.

But this time was different.

The longship fleet brazenly attacked Grey Shield, even as the beacons on the watchtowers blazed, stretching to the other islands further east.

The Shield Islands were alerted.

But at least for now, Grey Shield had only a few fragile merchant ships and patrol boats, no match for the longship fleet.

Moreover, what if all the Shield Islands' dozens of warships came?

Let the shields come!

The sea monster would shatter the shields completely! The sea off Grey Shield would become the graveyard of the cowardly Reachmen!

Hundreds of reavers stormed ashore without looking back, hacking down anyone who stood in their way as they advanced towards the villages, not at all worried about being cut off.

Or rather, they were hoping for an interception by enemy ships.

Heh heh, who was the prey?

The slaughter and chaos on the island grew more intense.

Men died wailing or roaring, women struggled in agony, screaming in terror, and young children sobbed or cried in misery and confusion…

But the beacons high above could only burn emptily, and the guards in the castle dared not venture out rashly.

Everyone longed for the arrival of the Shield Fleet.

Come quickly and protect the people!

Come quickly and destroy the longships, and kill the vile Ironborn!

Even if they all gathered at Oak Shield, it was at most half a day's sail away! Even less!

Come quickly!

Or it would be too late…

"Crow's Eye" Euron did not go ashore. He stood at the bow of the "Silence", quietly admiring his masterpiece.

The two maidens at the bow could not help but witness such a tragic scene.

But they could only remain silent.

The black iron maiden figurehead had no thoughts, no mouth.

Mia Hetherspoon had no tongue.

The torment of the past few days had been more unbearable than the loss of her tongue, and she even wondered why she was not yet dead.

But even if she had a thousand words in her heart, they would all be extinguished in her throat. The complex emotions were far more than the word "regret" could explain.

Her hope had long been extinguished.

The sea breeze howled even more wildly, scattering her hair at will, obscuring the eyes that could still see the world, and confusing the ears that could still hear sounds.

She closed her eyes. It did not matter anymore.

What could be worse? What was there to look forward to? Nothing but pain and darkness.

Perhaps this was the fate of a bastard daughter.

…

Another bastard daughter felt completely different.

All the warships of Oak Shield had weighed anchor and were sailing at full speed towards the beleaguered Grey Shield.

The situation was urgent. The traditional fleet and the new reforms could only adapt and adjust as quickly as possible. Clearly, the Shield Islands were the ones compromising and retreating.

Thus, Falia Flowers, under the name of "liaison officer," boarded the deck of the family flagship and became an officer.

Everything had happened in just half a day.

The bastard daughter, whose circumstances had changed dramatically, struggled to maintain a serious demeanor, but her eyes revealed bright joy and wonder.

So this was what it felt like to give orders, and this was what the scenery on a warship looked like.

It was even better than a dream.

She also solved the doubts she had when she eavesdropped at the banquet.

The God's Grace was referring to the beautiful light curtain.

The First Fleet was the fleet that originally belonged to her father.

It had a stronger body and armament: each ship had become as large as the flagship, and the decks were loaded with "cannons."

Having seen the demonstration of the cannons, Falia Flowers no longer worried about this naval battle.

Mere sea monsters, mere Ironborn.

Moreover.

His Majesty was coming…