In the castle's main hall, the last candlelight flickered unsteadily in the draft, illuminating Donovan Lyman, who stood alone before the throne. His magnificent clothes were covered in dust, his gaze like a trapped beast, yet he still maintained the posture of a monarch.
Euron and Jalabhar Xho stepped into the hall side by side, their footsteps echoing off the empty stone walls.
"Will you do it yourself," Euron's voice was calm but the content bone-chillingly cold, "or shall we?"
Euron said coldly, "You threw hundreds of innocent civilians off the walls with your own hands... This sin will not let you die easily. We will let you savor what pain truly is."
Donovan Lyman let out a hoarse, dry laugh, full of the madness of a dead end. "Civilians? If their lives could buy my victory, they would have died a worthy death! A pity... they were just a bunch of useless waste after all, failing to show even that little value!"
He suddenly turned to Jalabhar Xho, his eyes flashing with vicious light. "Jalabhar! Don't you style yourself the savior of the commoners? Don't you want to bring them hope and justice? But when you watched me throw them down like garbage, where were you? Where was your kindness? Your moving declarations? You and I are fundamentally no different! Neither of us has ever truly valued the lives of those wretches! You are just... better at pretending!"
Jalabhar Xho's face turned ashen with anger, but he was not crushed by this heart-striking argument. Instead, he saw through the opponent's intent. "Donovan, save it. You want to use these words to provoke me, and even more to delay time, to create a sliver of a chance for your precious son Skadi? Hmph, wishful thinking!"
"He can't run." Euron added indifferently from the side, his tone certain as a verdict.
The last trace of color drained from Donovan Lyman's face; despair swallowed him completely. He let out a roar unlike a human sound and suddenly grabbed his sword—not to attack, but to block the only secret door exit behind the throne with his body!
But his swordsmanship was like child's play before Euron.
A flash of cold light.
No one even saw clearly how Euron drew his blade. They only heard two almost simultaneous, tooth-aching sounds of metal snapping and Donovan Lyman's heart-rending scream.
His hands, used to block the door and hold the sword, were severed cleanly at the wrists. The cuts were smooth as mirrors, blood gushing out like fountains.
Euron casually kicked the curling, screaming Donovan Lyman to Jalabhar Xho's feet like discarding a piece of trash.
"He's yours," Euron said indifferently. "Deal with him however you like."
Inside the hall, only Donovan Lyman's agonizing wails remained, along with Jalabhar Xho's heavy breathing mixed with flames of revenge and a heavy mission.
As the street fighting in Lotus Port reached a fever pitch, Prince Skadi Lyman of Walano, protected by defense commander Bernhardt Sharpe and the last three hundred loyal guards, fled in panic toward the port. There, docked the last hope for their escape from this nightmare.
The port had long been blockaded under Euron's orders.
Three thousand mercenaries from the Long Lances, Stormcrows, and Company of the Cat, like three iron gates, firmly guarded every exit of the dock area. They coldly watched the sorry state of their former "employers," strictly executing Euron's order—forbidding any ship from leaving port.
"Break through! We must rush past!" Bernhardt Sharpe roared. This veteran general displayed his final, almost tragic loyalty at this moment. He led three hundred equally resolute guards, and those three hundred Unsullied, silent as mountains and knowing no fear, launching a suicidal charge against the mercenary line.
The battle erupted instantly and rapidly reached a tragic peak.
Loyal guards used their bodies to open a path for the prince, falling one by one under the mercenaries' swords. The Unsullied were like true war machines; every thrust of their spear array was precise and lethal, forcefully tearing a brief bloody gap in the mercenaries' thick line.
The cost was immense.
When Bernhardt Sharpe, bathed in blood, leading the remaining twenty-odd guards and protecting the panicked Donovan father and son, finally rushed through the blockade and stumbled onto the gangplank of a fast ship, he looked back—the port area was a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
The three hundred guards and three hundred Unsullied he brought had all died in battle. The last Unsullied was having his shield split open by the terrifying battle-axe of the Company of the Cat's new commander, "Great Axe" Cassius Frazer, his body cleaved in two along with it.
The instant that Unsullied's remains fell, splashing a patch of blood and filth.
A dark figure strolled unhurriedly out from the shadows of the port area.
Euron Greyjoy.
He arrived.
The battle was already over; the fugitives had just boarded the ship. He came neither early nor late, appearing exactly at the moment when the dust settled and hope and despair completed their handover. His gaze calmly swept over the loyal corpses on the ground, finally landing on the fleeing ship where hands were frantically trying to weigh anchor and hoist sails.
Amidst the smoke and burnt smell permeating the port, Euron sheathed his burning twin blades, his gaze sweeping over the three tense mercenary commanders nearby. "Hard work." Euron nodded slightly to them, his tone flat, without a hint of blame, as if their failure to stop that "decapitation squad" was within his expectations.
Gylo Rhegan of the Long Lances, eager to perform again, immediately stepped forward, pointing to the prince's magnificent Swan Ship desperately fleeing the port on the sea surface. "Lord Euron, I'll take men and chase them immediately! They are few and wounded, they can't be fast, they definitely won't get far!"
Hearing this, the corner of Euron's mouth curled into a smile, and he shook his head. "No need."
His gaze cast upon that seemingly calm sea surface, his voice carrying a certainty like declaring fate:
"They are dead."
"—I said so."
He was indeed unconcerned. Because the ruler of these waters had never changed.
Sure enough, that Swan Ship carrying Prince Skadi's last hope had just sailed a few hundred meters from the port, attempting to merge into the deepest darkness before dawn—
SPLASH—!
A massive, jagged dorsal fin, its edges flashing with steel-like cold light, suddenly broke the inky sea surface like a sickle raised by the Grim Reaper!
Without even giving time to react, that dorsal fin swept past the ship's bottom with incredible speed—
CRACK—BOOM!
The sturdy hull, like a fragile toy, was forcibly cut into two sections from the middle by an irresistible giant force!
Amidst flying wood chips, the prince's guards standing on the ship didn't even have time to scream before being cut in half along with the hull's rupture. Limbs and organs spilled instantly, dyeing the surrounding seawater red.
This was only the beginning.
The steel-scaled sawshark "Scale-Blade," King Balon's partner, this bloodthirsty sea king beast was clearly not satisfied yet. Its massive shadow twisted flexibly in the water, like a skilled yet incomparably cruel butcher, performing two precise and violent cuts back and forth on the floating wreckage and struggling figures!
Broken planks, masts, sails, and human remains were further shredded.
Seeming to tire of this killing game, "Scale-Blade" finally lost patience. Its massive head covered in steel scales, like a moving fortress, suddenly lifted completely from the sea surface, opening a giant maw like an abyssal cave—
ROAR—
A powerful suction force was generated, a rapidly spinning vortex appearing on the sea surface. The wreckage of the Swan Ship, the still struggling and crying human bodies, and the weapons and equipment they carried... were all swallowed clean by that giant maw!
A moment later, the sea surface closed abruptly.
Leaving only a few floating wood chips and a large patch of bloody water slowly spreading, dyeing the morning light an eerie red, proving that a brief but thorough destruction had occurred there.
On the port, Gylo Rhegan and the other two commanders stood stiffly in place, faces pale, speechless for a long time.
If we had taken a ship and left, the consequences...
Walano's monarch Donovan Lyman was captured, his end destined to be a living death; Prince Skadi Lyman was buried in the belly of a fish.
From this moment on, Walano changed hands and surnames. The unification of the Summer Isles faced no further resistance.
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