Chương 740: Chapter 740: The Pirate King
"What in the Seven Hells..."
Romy Pyke and Jack, the two pirates who were engrossed in conversation at the bow of the ship, stared in disbelief at the approaching fleet. They were frozen in place, unable to trust their own eyes.
The massive fleet was flying two types of banners. The largest was the Targaryen's three-headed dragon, and slightly smaller was the Greyjoy's golden kraken.
For those near the Essos continent, these banners might be somewhat unfamiliar, but for Jack and Romy, who hailed from Westeros, they couldn't be more recognizable.
Even One-eyed Romy Pyke accidentally spilled his jug of ale all over his trousers, sending a shiver down his spine. Snapping back to reality, he and Jack exchanged glances, each seeing the emotion in the other's eyes.
"Seven Hells!"
"By the Drowned God!"
Annoyed, One-eyed Romy Pyke glanced at his wet crotch, kicked the jug away, and abruptly stood up, unsheathing the curved blade at his waist.
On the other side, the handsome, blond pirate reacted just as quickly. He drew his own blade and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Enemy attack!"
"Enemy attack!"
But there was no need for their warning. The entire harbor, filled with a dozen pirate ships, had already descended into chaos. For some reason, these pirates had all stayed in their cabins, avoiding the small town ashore.
Meanwhile, on the calm sea, the fleet was cutting through the waves, rapidly approaching.
Dressed in scale armor and draped in a black cloak, the Imperial Fleet's Commander-in-Chief, Asha Greyjoy, stood atop a barrel at the bow of the flagship, the Viserion. She lifted her spyglass, observing the distant pirates.
"Tom Cold, give them a greeting!"
"Tell these Summer Sea minions that the true Pirate King has arrived!"
Asha Greyjoy's voice was icy as she lowered her Myrish eye-glass and commanded, "Destroy them!"
"Aye, Princess!"
Tom Cold, the captain of the Iron Fleet's ship Mourner, heard Asha Greyjoy's words. His face twisted into a savage grin as he eagerly responded.
This is the daughter of King Balon, the true Princess of the Iron Islands! Theon and Asha are the rightful heirs, not some Euron or others who could ever sit on the Seastone Chair. And he'd heard that Euron had even managed to lose the chair.
"Give them a lesson they'll never forget!"
"Show them who the true ancestors of piracy are!"
"Ready the trebuchets!"
"Fire!"
Tom Cold, now the first mate of the Viserion, sneered as he gave the orders. He had once been the captain of the Mourner in the Iron Fleet, a veteran of many battles, including the Ironborn Rebellion years ago and the two sackings of Lannisport. He had later fled the Iron Islands with Asha during the White Walker invasion and was now one of her most trusted confidants.
At his command, the Imperial Fleet, perfectly aligned on the sea, let out a unified roar.
Boom, boom, boom—
Flaming boulders soared into the sky, then whistled down toward the harbor and the pirate ships.
And how could the pirate ships in the harbor react in time?
By the time they realized the gravity of the situation and hurriedly tried to weigh anchor and sail out, it was already too late. Ships of such massive size couldn't possibly maneuver quickly.
Moreover, these pirates had never considered the possibility of a sudden attack from behind. The usually submissive and timid Naathi had actually sought external help.
So, the pirate ships were trapped in the harbor, unable to escape. They were sitting ducks, easy targets for the raining fireballs that lit up the despair on their faces. In an instant, the entire battlefield was transformed into a sea of fire.
Boom, boom, boom—
The trebuchets launched their flaming boulders, which crashed into the pirate ships. Some tore through the decks, others blasted gaping holes in the sides. The ships were ablaze, and the pirates let out agonized screams amidst the inferno.
Others took down the towering masts on the decks, crashing them into the town below, causing plumes of smoke to rise.
The once tranquil bay was instantly transformed into a hellscape. Flames roared everywhere, thick black smoke billowed into the sky, and the pirates' screams of agony could be heard from afar.
"Why has the Iron Throne's fleet come here?!"
"How should I know?"
Onboard the ship of the Brotherhood of Bones, 'One-Eye' Romy and 'Blond' Jack narrowly escaped the first wave of falling boulders.
But their situation was far from improved. Fire was everywhere, and their ship was tilting dangerously, sinking was only a matter of time.
The two exchanged glances, gritted their teeth, and plunged into the sea.
Naath is a blessed island located off the northwest coast of the Sothoryos continent, surrounded by the Summer Sea.
Its neighboring islands are few, and it boasts a calm, beautiful sea, mostly as smooth as a mirror. The Naathi are a gentle people, so gentle that they would rather retreat into the island's deep forests than take up arms against invaders.
Originally, during the height of the Ghiscari Empire, a ship from Ghis had arrived at Naath, introducing its people to the outside world.
Before slavers began frequenting Naath, the islanders had been part of long-distance trade between Essos and Westeros, amassing great wealth.
Due to the island's environment favoring insect growth, the Naathi became major exporters of silk. They also exported exquisite handicrafts and spiced wines. Fine Naathi silk could once be found from the Seven Kingdoms to the Free Cities.
Unfortunately, since the Doom of Valyria, the Naathi lost the protection of their suzerain. Their wealth attracted the wrong kind of attention, and slavers began to frequent the waters around Naath.
So, the Naathi had no choice but to abandon their beautiful coasts and move inland, into the forests. Over the past four centuries, Naath's export trade had collapsed, its prosperity vanished, and Naathi silk became a rare sight.
This was what the local chieftains told Asha Greyjoy when she led her fleet to Naath.
The Imperial Fleet's arrival at Naath was like a godsend, effortlessly destroying a large number of pirate ships.
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