Galon Whitestaff was an Ironborn figure from the Age of Heroes.
He was the greatest priest of the Drowned God in that era. Without equal.
He carried a white staff carved from weirwood and used it to punish those whose faith in the Drowned God was impure.
The reason Galon White Staff became so famous throughout Iron Islands history was because he was the first man to break the divisions between the islands and convene the first kingsmoot of all Ironborn.
Under his guidance and coronation, the first High King above all the kings of the Iron Islands was born.
In his later years, when the son of the first High King attempted to skip the kingsmoot and crown himself king directly, it was Galon Whitestaff who stepped forward once again.
At Old Wyk, he gathered all captains and kings together, deposed the new ruler, and completely defended the sacred authority of the kingsmoot.
It could be said that without him, there would have been no kingsmoot and no united Iron Islands.
As the centuries passed, Galon Whitetaff's reputation among the Ironborn grew to heights few others could reach.
Many even mythologized him as the Drowned God's messenger walking upon the mortal world.
So when Rodrik Harlaw shouted the name "Galon Whitestaff," every captain familiar with the ancient legends of the Iron Islands stared at the rejuvenated white staff in Galon's hand.
Then they looked at Galon himself.
Though slightly stunned, he still stood calm and steady.
In an instant, overwhelming religious fervor and awe swept through them all.
"It's Galon Whitestaff!"
"Praise the Drowned God!"
"The Drowned God's most faithful servant has returned to the world!"
"The glory of the Iron Islands will rise again!"
The shouts rose one after another like crashing waves.
Before this sudden miracle and the weight of ancient legend, all calculation, fear, and even hostility toward the Northerners became meaningless.
In their eyes, Galon Glover was no longer a foreign conqueror.
He had become the living embodiment of the Drowned God's holy servant.
One of their own.
Galon himself paused slightly.
His mind rapidly searched through memories related to Galon Whitestaff.
Within moments, he recalled the stories of Galon Whitestaff presiding over the kingsmoot and crowning the High King of the Iron Islands.
Even The World of Ice & Fire recorded those deeds.
'So-called Galon White Staff... it's only a trace of the Old Gods' power.'
'I didn't expect the Old Gods' blessing on me to actually work.'
As Galon remembered Euron's magic from moments earlier, he lowered his head and looked at the warm, jade-like weirwood staff in his hand.
A bold idea suddenly formed in his mind.
'If that's the case...'
'Why not simply pretend to be Galon Whitestaff?'
'Using the authority of the gods to bind the Iron Islands to me is far easier than trying to completely subdue Asha.'
A sharp light flashed through his eyes.
Then he turned toward Euron Greyjoy, who still stood frozen in shock.
Galon strode toward him.
"No... impossible!"
"How can you be Galon Whitestaff?!"
Euron stared at the approaching Galon holding the white staff.
Fear.
Madness.
Terror.
All of it twisted together into complete hysteria. Blood streamed from his eyes as he screamed.
"Die, you savage bastard!"
Then he attempted to use his magic again.
But Galon gave him no chance.
His figure flashed forward.
In an instant, he appeared at Euron's left side and raised the white staff high overhead.
Boom!
The staff smashed down upon Euron's skull with overwhelming force, knocking him flat onto the ground.
The Old Gods' power within the weirwood effortlessly dispersed Euron's magic, reducing him once again to nothing more than a heavily wounded man.
"Urgh..."
"No... the Drowned God... it's false... impossible..."
Foam and blood spilled from Euron's mouth as he struggled desperately to rise.
But without magic supporting him, the heavy chains around his body held him firmly in place.
No matter how hard he struggled, he could not stand.
Galon looked down coldly at the writhing Euron.
Then he raised the white staff and pronounced judgment.
"Euron committed kinslaying and usurped the throne. He worshipped false gods and defied the will of the Drowned God!"
"In the name of the gods, I sentence him to death by the staff!"
The moment his words fell, Galon swung the weirwood staff directly into Euron's neck.
Crack.
Euron's neck snapped instantly.
His body twitched several times unwillingly before finally falling still forever.
Galon exhaled heavily.
Only after confirming Euron no longer moved did he lean upon the white staff and slowly sweep his gaze across the courtyard.
Every Ironborn captain who met his eyes immediately knelt.
Their faces were filled with awe and reverence for Galon Whitestaff.
Meanwhile, Asha stood there completely at a loss. She had never imagined events would develop like this.
'Galon Whitestaff?'
'But he's clearly a Glover...'
'How could the Drowned God choose someone who worships the Old Gods as his messenger?'
An overwhelming sense of absurdity surged through her. Shock and confusion filled her eyes.
Galon, however, paid no attention to her inner turmoil.
His thoughts raced rapidly.
'This is the perfect opportunity.'
'I'll imitate the deeds of Galon Whitestaff and personally crown Asha.'
'That way, her throne will become inseparably tied to me forever.'
Galon understood clearly.
The moment Asha accepted coronation from him, she would gain authority and prestige surpassing even her father's.
But that authority would rest entirely upon Galon's identity as "Galon Whitestaff."
From this day onward, Asha would have no choice but to defend that identity.
Because if others questioned Galon's legitimacy, they would also question the legitimacy of her coronation.
And once that happened, her rule itself would become unstable.
Galon looked toward the still-dazed Asha.
Taking a deep breath, he raised the white staff and walked toward her.
He gently took her slightly cold right hand and guided her toward the wooden table before the chapel.
"Ironborn!"
Galon's voice was not loud.
Yet every single person heard it clearly.
It carried sacred authority.
"Evil has been destroyed, just as the ancient prophecies foretold."
"The Drowned God has not abandoned you."
The Ironborn kneeling below immediately became even more emotional, repeatedly bowing their heads.
The Northern soldiers, meanwhile, exchanged uncertain glances, unsure whether they should kneel as well.
As for the Skagosi, the scene had completely overwhelmed them.
They simply stood there blankly staring at Galon.
Galon's eyes shifted toward Ron and Mihawk in the distance. He gave them a subtle signal to withdraw.
Understanding immediately, they began leading the Northern soldiers farther away from the courtyard.
Only after the Northerners moved aside did Galon raise his voice once more.
"And now..."
"The rightful line must return!"
He turned slightly and gently touched the end of the white staff against Asha's shoulder.
The gesture was solemn and sacred.
"By the authority granted through the Drowned God, and in the name of this white staff, I witness and proclaim—
Asha Greyjoy, daughter of King Balon, lawful and sole heir to the Iron Islands, shall bear this crown and rule the Ironborn!"
Galon placed the white staff upon the table.
Then he lifted the driftwood crown with both hands.
"Kneel before me, Your Grace."
His voice carried unquestionable authority.
At this moment, Galon was no longer the lord of Deepwood Motte.
He had become a priest and arbiter acting in the name of the gods themselves.
Asha slowly raised her head.
Looking at Galon's cold and majestic expression, she instinctively obeyed.
She knelt.
Galon carefully and solemnly placed the driftwood crown upon her head.
The crown was light.
Yet it seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, crushing away the final traces of hesitation within her heart.
"In the name of the Drowned God!"
Galon raised his voice once more and recited the ancient oath of the Iron Islands.
"You shall swear loyalty to Asha Greyjoy, Queen of the Ironborn!"
The moment his words ended, Rodrik Harlaw reacted first.
He stepped forward, then knelt on one knee before Asha.
"In the name of House Harlaw, I swear loyalty to Queen Asha and obey the divine will of Galon White Staff!"
Like the first falling domino, the rest followed instantly.
Every captain present, regardless of former allegiance or lingering hesitation, knelt one after another beneath the combined pressure of divine authority and legitimate succession.
They drew their daggers and swords and laid them before Asha's feet while shouting their oaths.
"Loyalty to Queen Asha!"
"We obey the divine messenger!"
"Long live the Iron Islands!"
The thunderous cries nearly shook the chapel roof apart.
Asha stood before them wearing the driftwood crown. She listened to the overwhelming roar of loyalty surrounding her.
Then she turned slightly and looked at Galon standing beside her with the white staff.
He stood there calmly accepting everything as though he naturally belonged at the center of this scene.
At that moment, Asha understood clearly.
Her crown.
Her authority.
Even her future.
All of it had become inseparably bound to this man now hailed as the incarnation of Galon White Staff.
She was no longer merely his ally.
She had become the extension and proof of his divine authority in the mortal world.
A puppet.
'No.'
'I am Asha.'
'I am a Greyjoy.'
'My relationship with him cannot remain like this.'
Bit by bit, determination returned to Asha's eyes as though she had made some kind of decision.
But Galon noticed none of it.
His gaze passed over the kneeling crowd... Past the towering spires of Pyke...Toward some distant eastern horizon.
'The Iron Islands...'
'That unruly longship has finally been fitted with reins.'
'Next...'
'It's time to completely seize control of the North...'
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