Jalabhar Xho's heart was a churning ocean, though his face maintained a stiff, near-frozen calm. He remained silent for a moment, as if sifting through the dust of his memory for faces blurred by time. Then, in as steady a voice as he could muster, he spoke the names and details that held the weight of his past:
"Eli Sanders. He was one of the finest shipwrights on the Isle of Birds and the most loyal craftsman to my father. He has a deep scar on his left brow bone, left by a whipping cable that snapped when he was young; it nearly cut his eyebrow in two. He's missing three fingers on his right hand—lost to a falling axe while rushing to build a Swan Ship—but his remaining two fingers are more dexterous than most men's whole hands."
He paused, then continued: "Freya Gak. She was the Captain of the Royal Guard in the Red Flower Vale and one of my mother's personal bodyguards. Her skin is the color of deep ebony, and she has a tattoo of thorny vines on her right cheek, symbolizing protection. Her left pinky was sliced clean off while fending off an assassination attempt, but her skill with a spear in her right hand is unmatched in the entire Vale."
"Toby Knight. He makes a living fishing on Omboru. He looks like just an ordinary fisherman, but he was my study companion in childhood and my sharpest eyes and ears. He has a slight hunchback from years of hauling nets. A small piece of his left earlobe is missing, a souvenir from a fight in his youth. His eyes are always darting around, looking curious about everything, but in reality, he's shrewder than anyone."
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Euron's gaze shifted to Floyd, who was standing at attention nearby. He spoke softly. "Floyd!"
"Here!" The young Greyjoy responded instantly, his body snapping to attention.
"Did you hear what Prince Jalabhar Xho just said? Did you memorize it?" Euron's question was concise to the extreme.
"Loud and clear!" Floyd's answer was decisive, without a hint of hesitation.
Euron nodded slightly. "Repeat it."
Floyd took a deep breath and began to speak. His pace was steady, and he repeated—word for word, without error—the names, island locations, identities, and those crucial physical characteristics Prince Jalabhar had just listed. His voice echoed in the war room, reconstructing every detail with precision, displaying astonishing memory and focus.
When he finished, the smile on Euron's face deepened slightly, turning into a low hum of praise. "Good." He then issued his order: "Go find Lisa. Use every means necessary to find these people. Then, tell them the storm is coming, and it's time for them to do their part."
"Understood! Commander!" Excitement flashed in Floyd's eyes. He thumped his chest in salute, cut out any unnecessary chatter, turned sharply, and strode out of the war room to execute his first major mission since integrating into the Iron Islands forces.
Euron's gaze fell back onto Jalabhar Xho. "Now for the next set of problems: where we hit first, where we hit later, and... how we hit."
He chuckled lightly. "You've spent over half a year with my Ironborn warriors. You should understand their nature. When the killing fever takes them, beneath their battle-axes and blades, they can't distinguish who is who, nor can they remember who should be killed and who should be spared. In their eyes, there are only standing enemies and fallen corpses."
Jalabhar Xho's expression changed instantly, a trace of pallor sweeping across his cheeks. He took a deep breath and spoke with difficulty, trying to draw a line in the inevitable bloodshed. "I understand... but please, try to only kill the nobles and the rebels who take up arms. As for the commoners... they are only forced to obey. Unless absolutely necessary, please spare their lives."
Euron nodded, but the definition he gave was cold and absolute. "Anyone using a weapon to attack us, whether he was a farmer or a fisherman moments before, is considered a combatant in that instant. That is the only line."
Prince Jalabhar argued, "But many commoners are enslaved; they are coerced! They do not wish to be our enemies!"
"That is war!"
Euron's voice suddenly turned cold, like a polar wind, instantly freezing the other man's lingering fantasies. He stared at the prince, his eyes sharp as knives. "In war, no one is completely innocent. On the battlefield, there are only two types of people: allies or enemies. I cannot, and will not, ask my people to pause in a life-or-death struggle to distinguish whether the man charging with a spear is a reluctant commoner or a bloodthirsty noble! A moment of distraction on the battlefield is paid for with an Ironborn life! Prince Jalabhar!"
Euron said coldly, "If you still hold onto this unrealistic mercy... then I can only say, you have learned nothing from your last defeat."
This interrogation, piercing straight to the heart, struck Jalabhar Xho like lightning, leaving his face white. He remained silent for a long time, looking as if all his strength had been drained, or as if he had finally accepted a cruel law of nature. He whispered, "I... I understand. I will do my best... to find a way before the battle to persuade those commoners to lay down their arms, or even become part of our uprising."
Euron smiled and nodded. "I believe you can do it!"
He slowly turned around, his gaze sweeping over Balon and the island lords gathered around the table like a physical weight. These core pillars of House Greyjoy already knew of the grander voyage that lay beyond the Summer Isles.
"Now," Euron's voice broke the silence, carrying an unquestionable authority, "you may tell the captains of each ship."
He paused deliberately, looking at every rugged face, and said coolly, "Tell them that for this expedition, the Summer Isles are by no means the end!"
"No need to reveal the final destination of our voyage or specific future targets. Just let them know, make every axe-wielding Ironborn warrior understand—"
"This rich archipelago is merely the starting point of our long journey, the beginning of the Kraken banner sweeping across the southern seas! Ahead of us lies a wider world, with more wealth and glory waiting for us!"
He straightened up, a magnificent aura enveloping the room.
"Go and pass my words down exactly as I said them. Let every oarsman, every warrior holding an axe, remember this firmly. No need to ask questions, no need to think too much. They only need to—follow my Zhiyuan, and attack where my blade points! We will, in the end, rule this ocean!"
"The Summer Isles are just the beginning of the path of conquest!"
The order was given; no further explanation was needed.
The lords thumped their chests heavily in salute, then turned and strode out of the war room to ignite the raging fire named "Conquest" in the hearts of their sons and subordinates.
Soon, this massive fleet would know that they had embarked on a path of conquest far more magnificent than they had ever imagined.
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