It was the twentieth day of the voyage.
When the black towers of Pyke finally appeared on the horizon, the sailors did not cheer. They licked their cracked lips in silence, eyes fixed on barrels of fresh water and the smoke of roasting whale meat on the shore.
Euron stood at the bow, watching Lysa wipe the dragonglass compass—a trophy Dagmer had secretly given him—with a black cloth embroidered in gold thread. Her fingers were slender and precise. As she murmured in High Valyrian, the compass's edge glimmered faintly blue.
"She calls it a 'beacon of blood and fire,'" Dagmer said, one eye glinting in the twilight. "Boy, you've found a treasure."
The waves caressed the hull. Euron's shoulder wound had scabbed over. He studied the emerging outline of Pyke, knowing this voyage had altered something irrevocably—perhaps the Iron Islands' future, perhaps his own destiny.
Twenty days at sea had fully awakened the "Pirate King System" within him.
____
[System Activation]
Host: Euron Greyjoy (Reincarnated)
World Type: Low-Magic Plane — Synchronized. Loading Complete.
Current Status:
• Free Attribute Points: 0
• Strength: 4/10 — Child's body; physical power extremely limited
• Agility: 6/10 — Balance refined by sea winds
• Stamina: 4/10 — Old rib injury limits endurance
• Spirit: 12/10 — Alien soul fusion exceeds normal threshold
• Command: 8/10 — Initial aura of the Drowned God
• Charm: 9/10 — Heterochromatic eyes; "Son of the Drowned God" legend
• Luck: C (Scale A–F; A: excellent, F: catastrophic)
System Reward: Haoshoku Haki Lv.1 (Passive)
• Cannot be actively controlled; emits unconsciously during extreme emotional states (anger, fear, life-or-death).
• Effects: Weak opponents retreat; subtle intimidation; reduces enemy strength, agility, and spirit.
• Upgrade Lv.2: Requires 2000 points.
Euron felt a mix of surprise and disappointment. Surprise at obtaining the rare Haoshoku Haki, marking him as a kingly figure; disappointment that Lv1 offered only subtle effects, far weaker than in the legends of pirates and adventurers he had known. Yet the potential for growth was limitless.
[ Exploration Rewards ]
• Western Sea of Westeros discovered: +80 points
• Pyke discovered: +80 points
____
The black stone hall of Pyke tasted of salt, smoke, and an undercurrent of something colder—fear.
The spoils of the Silence lay heaped in a corner: silks from Myr, gems from Lys, Tyroshi spices, golden coins stamped with foreign faces. What should have been trophies glowed instead with a harsh, judgmental light.
No one spoke.
Dagmer's lips were pressed tight.
The sailors stood stiff as ship masts.
Not a soul dared meet the gaze of the man standing like a carved stone at the end of the hall.
Lord Quellon Greyjoy, broad-shouldered and imposing, stood by the hearth, gaze fixed on the flames.
When he spoke, his voice was iron wrapped in ice.
"A full hold?"
He turned.
His hawk-sharp eyes fell upon the treasure—then over his sons, Balon and Euron.
"Tyroshi spice," Quellon said, stepping forward. "Myrish silk. Lyseni gems. A fortune fit for a king."
His voice rose, a sudden crack of thunder.
"—and what did you trade for it?!"
The torches shivered.
He stood nose-to-nose with Balon, voice like a hammer on stone.
"Unauthorized raiding—under the nose of the Governor of Butalos! Did you think this was a child's fair? You gained treasure, but drew the wrath of a fleet! You brought home riches, but exposed us to danger!"
He jabbed a finger toward the piles.
"Every bolt of silk may cost Ironborn lives. Every coin you plundered may be paid back in blood!"
He turned his fury sharply on Euron.
"Cleverness misplaced! Did you think prying captives' mouths solved everything? Did 'wildfire' suffice? Foolish!"
The hall fell silent.
Then came judgment.
"Confinement. One month. Neither of you sets foot outside Pyke. Your ships and weapons are impounded."
Balon's jaw clenched.
Euron lowered his eyes, hiding the flicker of thought behind them.
"And you, Balon," Quellon continued, voice heavy with disappointment, "as heir, your responsibility is the greatest. You failed to restrain your brother. Worse—you encouraged him."
Balon's breath hitched.
"After the confinement… you will clean the barnacles from the Howling Head reefs. By hand. Under the sun. No rest, no ship, no reprieve until it is done."
Gasps rose.
The Howling Head was infamous.
Even seasoned reavers dreaded that punishment.
Quellon then looked at Euron.
"You, Euron—during your confinement, you will copy the Drowned God scroll, the History of the Ironborn, and the Laws of the Iron Islands. Three times each. Every stroke must be exact."
The difference in punishment was unmistakable.
Balon went pale with humiliation.
Euron accepted the decree with a calm tilt of the head.
Quellon turned away from both boys.
"As for the spoils… Dagmer, split them as custom demands. Half to the vault. The other half—sell it for grain and timber. Reinforce Pyke and the outer islands. They brought back gold and trouble. We will use both."
His final words boomed across the hall:
"Now—get out."
The sailors fled like men escaping a sinking ship.
The doors slammed shut behind them, leaving the cold fury of the Sea Tower sealed inside.
---
📚 Author's Note:
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed diving into the Iron Islands and following Euron's journey. More adventure, intrigue, and chaos await—stay tuned!
🐧