The Stepstones, Bloodstone Isle
Aboard a galleon flying the purple sea-snail banner of a merchant house, the ancient sea lanes from Westeros to the Stepstones felt surprisingly calm. The ship, the Mermaid, glided like a great white gull across the sapphire waves, its sails whispering to the wind.
Jon, now moving with a purpose that felt far older than his years, sat on the aft deck with his new Lord Commander, Barristan Selmy. They spent the hours drifting between the heavy silence of the sea and the light banter of old memories.
While Barristan was a paragon of chivalry and duty, the old knight possessed a surprisingly keen ear for court gossip—a trait developed over decades of standing silent in the background of royal conversations. He knew the whispers surrounding the Stark family better than anyone.
"I always suspected the story of Lady Ashara Dayne and Lord Eddard was a convenient smoke screen," Barristan mused, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "It seems they were quite deliberate in spreading misinformation to provide cover for your true identity."
Jon offered a thin smile. As men age, they tend to either dwell on their victories or drown in their regrets; Barristan preferred to unpack the puzzles of the past. To Jon, the old knight's decades of experience were a treasure far more valuable than gold.
"The Stepstones..." Barristan sighed. "The last time I was here was during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. I slew Maelys the Monstrous, the last of the Blackfyres, right here in these islands. He was a horror—a second head growing right out of his shoulder."
"And the sword, Ser?" Jon asked, his interest piqued. "The sword Blackfyre. If the line ended with him, why was the blade never recovered?"
Blackfyre was the ancestral Valyrian steel blade of House Targaryen, a weapon of far greater renown than Jon's own Dark Sister. It had been lost to the dynasty when Aegon the Unworthy gifted it to his bastard son, Daemon, sparking centuries of civil war.
"The blade was never found," Barristan replied. "Prisoners claimed Maelys killed his own cousin, Daemon IV, just to extract the secret of the sword's location. The crown won the war, but the dragon's blade vanished into the mists of history."
He trailed off, his gaze lingering on the jagged silhouette of a distant island rising from the surf like a dragon's tooth.
Toot—Toot—!
The low, mournful blast of war-horns suddenly cut through the air. As the Mermaid rounded a massive cluster of jagged reefs, a naval skirmish erupted into view.
Since Jon had yet to design a formal sigil for the Chainbreakers, his fleet fought under black sails and plain red banners. Most of his vessels were iron-reinforced longships and light galleys. They were currently engaged with a fleet of massive Swan Ships—the pride of the Summer Isles, many of which were equipped with heavy Myrish catapults.
"Those are Lysene colors," Barristan noted, lowering his myrish tube. He pointed toward the figureheads of naked women carved into the prows of the enemy ships. "It seems your men are in a bit of a predicament."
Barristan might have been a land-knight, but he had studied the "Free City Neighbors" with a veteran's eye. Except for Braavos, the Free Cities were run by merchants who saw any weakness in Westeros as an invitation to carve out a profit.
"The Lysene fleet is exceptionally well-coordinated," Barristan continued. "They often disguise themselves as pirates to pillage the Stepstones. Two years ago, they wiped out a Tarth merchant convoy right in these waters."
"Should I call for the Dragon, my Prince?" Barristan asked, turning to Jon.
"A Dragon is a weapon of absolute destruction, not a packhorse to be called for every skirmish," Jon replied calmly. "I have faith in these boys. Besides, it's a good opportunity for you to see how 'System-blessed' soldiers fight. You can decide for yourself if you want to accept that power later."
Jon's confidence wasn't unearned. Bloodstone Isle had been secured by Salladhor Saan and handed over to Garo before Jon left for the capital. Through his own lens, Jon could see the "Sea Fox" flagship leading the counter-offensive.
The battle was a clash of philosophies. The Lysene Swan Ships were gargantuan floating fortresses, but their size made them sluggish. In the choppy, unpredictable currents of the reefs, they were like clumsy giants struggling to turn their massive broadsides toward the agile "Chainbreakers."
In contrast, Jon's longships—a design perfected by the Ironborn—were sleek, narrow, and incredibly fast. They operated in Wolfpack Tactics, a strategy the Ironborn had used to dominate the Sunset Sea for centuries.
The longships didn't trade fire; they swarmed. They used their reinforced rams to clip the rudders of the Swan Ships, then used their agility to stick to the giants' "blind spots" near the stern.
Once a longship made contact, the Chainbreakers acted with terrifying speed. They utilized specialized grappling hooks—designed for vertical climbing—to latch onto the high hulls of the Lysene ships. Under Garo's harsh training, these men practiced boarding and rock-climbing daily.
While the boarders ascended, archers on the longship decks provided suppressive fire with crossbows, picking off any Lysene sailor who dared lean over the railing.
As soon as they hit the deck, the "upgraded" soldiers turned the tide. These weren't mere sailors; they were Berserkers and Marauders who had undergone class transitions via the System. They fought with twin axes, moving across the deck with a ferocity that bordered on the supernatural.
The Lysene fleet had originally come to Bloodstone to resupply, intending to bully the new occupants. They hadn't expected to find a disciplined hive of warriors who cared nothing for the size of their ships.
"Your men... they fight like demons," Barristan whispered, genuinely shocked. "I have seen many armies, but those axe-wielders... they move with a strength I've never seen in a common man. Is this truly the 'blessing' you spoke of?"
Jon watched as the first Swan Ship's banner was cut down, replaced by a red flag. "In this world, Ser Barristan, the old ways of war are dying. It's time for something new."