Returning to the Iron Islands, Euron clearly felt the rustiness brought on by months of administrative duty at Harrenhal.
It wasn't that he had forgotten the techniques, but rather a sluggishness in his body's connection to the hilt, a subtle delay in the minute control of his muscles when exerting force.
Euron immediately went to Iron Smoke Isle and found the overseer, Atticus Whitney. He did not ask for sharp killing weapons but instead commissioned several special practice blades. These blades were standard in shape, but their defining trait was their astonishing weight. Their bodies were cast from repeatedly folded raw iron, making them several times heavier than ordinary war blades.
The inspiration came from One Piece, specifically the scenes of Zoro training daily on deck with impossibly heavy weights.
Euron's goal was pure and extreme—he wanted to re-hone the control of every inch of muscle and every bone under absolute pressure.
The first step of his cultivation had a clear goal: to wield weight as if it were light.
Every morning, before the sea mist had fully dispersed, Euron's figure would appear on the rocky beach where the waves crashed. Shirtless, with the sea breeze and spray wetting his bronzed skin, his muscles bulged and tightened like steel. He gripped the practice blade—so heavy that an ordinary strong man would struggle just to lift it—and repeated the most basic movements of hacking, slashing, chopping, and lifting, over and over again.
There were no fancy moves, only the primal confrontation between weight and strength. Every swing was accompanied by the heavy sound of wind being shorn. Sweat rained down onto the black rocks, only to be swallowed by the sea. In this almost masochistic penance, he forced his body to adapt, to conquer, to transcend this heavy restraint, until he could wield this terrifying weight freely. Only then would the first lesson of his return to strength be complete.
As the date of the expedition drew near, the selected Ironborn warriors from each island began to flow continuously into Pyke.
They settled in temporary camps set up outside the castle. The thunderous sounds of battle cries and clashing weapons rang from dawn till dusk. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and the anticipation of war.
Arriving on the same ships as these elite warriors were the second sons of the lords' families. Harbering dreams of establishing themselves and earning merit, their eyes burned with a thirst for unknown seas and endless glory.
"Second sons sail; eldest sons guard the soil!"
These young, spirited second sons were allowed to join the expedition, while the eldest sons of each house had to remain on the islands to inherit the family business and guard the ancestral halls and salt pans.
Ironically, the staunch defenders of this rule—their fathers, the lords themselves—were now mostly boarding longships in high spirits, preparing to personally throw themselves into this unprecedented path of conquest.
This situation caused the eldest sons left behind on the islands to complain bitterly, their hearts filled with grievance. They gathered in taverns or their own halls, drinking sullenly, their words full of reluctance.
"Why? Father gets to go to the Summer Isles to plunder gems and hardwoods, while we have to count seagulls here and manage a few salt slaves?"
"Exactly! What future is there in guarding these cold rocks and salty winds? True glory is on the sea, in the distance!"
"If I'd known, I should have been born a few years later. Being a second son is actually freer!"
For a time, the status of the eldest son, viewed in other parts of Westeros as the hope and future of the family, became an object of disdain in the Iron Islands.
A peculiar sentiment quietly spread—the younger generation of Ironborn began to envy the freedom of the second sons, believing that guarding the soil was a shackle, while expanding the borders was the true nature of a man.
"If you can be a second son, who would want to be the eldest?" This sentence became the unspoken consensus among many young nobles of the Iron Islands.
In this land where plunder and conquest were religion, the limelight of the "eldest son" guarding the family inheritance was, for the first time, thoroughly overshadowed by the "second son" who could hoist sails and conquer new lands. This was a situation that even Euron, who had first proposed this prudent idea, had not anticipated.
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Before the morning mist was fully chased away by the sea breeze, Euron had already completed his solitary weight training on the secluded beach. As the sun leaped fully above the sea level, spilling gold across Pyke's training grounds, he threw himself into a more intense form of cultivation—live combat sparring with Ironborn warriors from the various islands.
The atmosphere on the training ground was heated and intense.
Every Ironborn warrior who dared to step up and challenge him became a living "point." Defeating them not only accumulated these "points" bit by bit but also served as excellent honing for his reflexes, bladework, and adaptability.
For the Ironborn warriors, this was also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. To personally cross blades with the legendary "Kraken Lord," to experience his precise and ruthless bladework firsthand—even if they were quickly defeated, they could glean practical combat skills and feel the pressure of life and death that normal training could never provide.
Euron's figure weaved through the crowd, his dual blades (now switched to standard training blades) like shadows. Sometimes he blocked and countered, sometimes he dodged and charged. Every move was concise and effective, filled with wisdom tempered by real combat. He was not just fighting but observing, occasionally pointing out flaws or areas for improvement with brief words after knocking down an opponent.
This was undoubtedly a brilliant method that killed three birds with one stone: Euron accumulated "points" and enriched his combat experience; the Ironborn warriors gained valuable guidance and the baptism of combat; and the overall combat capability of the Iron Islands Expeditionary Force quietly rose through this high-intensity sharpening.
A tall figure full of exotic flair was particularly eye-catching on the training ground—Prince Jalabhar Xho of the Red Flower Vale.
Since this expedition to the Summer Isles was nominally to help this exiled prince reclaim his birthright, it was only natural for him to be on the battlefield, appearing on the front lines.
Jalabhar's fighting style carried the rich characteristics of the Summer Isles: his left hand gripped a large hardwood shield, and his right held a sturdy long spear. In addition, a finely crafted longbow was slung across his back; he was also a highly skilled marksman with extraordinary precision.
Euron sparred with this Prince several times.
Jalabhar Xho's spear technique was distinctly different from the deceptive, snake-like agility of Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne. Jalabhar's moves were steadier, focusing more on grounding and explosive power. Every thrust was heavy and forceful, like a battering ram; every block utilized the core strength of his waist and abdomen, steady as a rock. His fighting style was blazing like the sun, majestic in power, carrying a primal and direct pressure.
Initially, in Euron's chess game, Jalabhar Xho was merely a useful pawn for the Iron Islands to intervene in the Summer Isles with a legitimate cause.
Over time, through long-term interaction, Euron gradually began to appreciate this dark-skinned, rough-mannered, yet exceptionally optimistic prince.
Jalabhar Xho carried the passionate and cheerful nature of the Summer Isles' sunlight. He was unconstrained by trifles, straightforward and heroic, as if no gloom could stay in his heart for long. Even rarer, beneath this ruggedness, he always maintained good manners and grace in his dealings with others, possessing an undeniable aura of uprightness. Toward Tessaya, the wife arranged by House Greyjoy in a political marriage, he also showed sincere care and attentiveness.
Euron's rationality remained online; these fine qualities could possibly be a façade meticulously acted by Jalabhar Xho for survival and the restoration of his kingdom. After all, the only thing he could rely on now was the military might of the Iron Islands.
But Euron remembered that in the original story, this prince eventually became a popular figure in the court of King's Landing. For over a decade, he was known for his friendliness and integrity, never committing an evil deed.
Weighing the options, Euron made his decision: he would fully support Jalabhar Xho to become the true King of the Summer Isles.
Euron was not particularly worried that this prince would burn bridges or betray the Iron Islands after taking power.
Because the Iron Islands' invincible fleet and deep-sea monsters were the most solid cornerstone for all these promises and friendships.
In the face of absolute strength, the price of any betrayal would be too high to bear.
The clang of metal and heavy panting on the training ground played a rousing prelude to the expedition.
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