On the rocky beach beneath the cliffs west of Pyke, the angry sea roared, and the salty wind cut like a knife. Every wave crashing against the jagged black reefs sent up spray and a deafening boom. In this perilous place where ordinary men feared to tread, young Euron Greyjoy was undergoing brutal combat training with the Iron Islands' fierce instructor, Baelor
Baelor, nicknamed "Bonebreaker," swung a heavy practice axe with wide, sweeping motions full of the berserk fury in Ironborn bones. Every chop tore the air with a dull thud; every sweep kicked up gravel like a miniature tsunami. His combat philosophy was simple and direct—crush with power, life for life!
"Ha!" Baelor roared, the wooden axe descending with mountain-splitting force from the upper left, aimed straight at Euron's thin shoulder.
Euron, small but agile as a ghost octopus among the reefs, knew blocking was death. The moment the axe screamed toward him, his left leg slid back like lightning. His body, like a reed pulled by an invisible hand, leaned to the right to the extreme limit! The heavy axe smashed down, grazing his nose with the scent of death. Boom! The hard basalt reef beneath his feet cracked like a spiderweb, stone chips flying!
Seizing the tiny gap of Baelor's exhausted momentum, Euron sprang up like a compressed spring! The short wooden sword in his hand struck like a viper's tongue at Baelor's exposed right ribs! The angle was tricky, swift as lightning!
"Cunning!" Baelor growled. His massive body twisted with surprising agility, his thick leather armguard barely deflecting the lethal stab. The wooden sword scraped harshly against the leather.
Euron retreated a few steps, panting. Sweat mixed with icy seawater dripped down his tense jawline. His mismatched eyes—the left an abyss swallowing frustration, the right an icy sea freezing unwillingness—stared dead at Baelor.
Dagmer stepped between them, stopping Euron from continuing. "Your mind is fast as lightning, little master! But your body... can't keep up! Master Baelor's way is for men who can take the first axe to deliver the second! If you keep training like this, your bones will break first!"
Strength! This five-year-old body was the biggest shackle! Baelor's traditional Ironborn path of brute force was a dead end for him.
"You're right, Dagmer. I need... the sword of water." Euron gasped, his voice carrying the chill of the sea wind. He looked past them at the surging Narrow Sea. "I've heard of the Water Dancers of Braavos... Their swords are light and agile, piercing every gap, overcoming strength with skill. Dagmer, has Malyo returned to the Free Cities yet?"
Dagmer thought for a moment. "By the journey time, at least three more days."
Euron nodded. "Give Malyo a task. Help me find a suitable Braavosi Water Dancer."
"I think he will do his best!"
---
Combat training was only part of Euron's life. He poured greater energy into exploring every inch of unlit fog on Pyke to seize valuable "Exploration Points." This was no leisurely stroll, but a journey full of challenges and danger.
Flint Cliffs was a daunting precipice on the northeast corner of Pyke. Steep black basalt columns plunged into the angry dark green sea like spears thrust by the Drowned God. The wind here was squeezed into shrill screams, and salt grains whipped the face like sandpaper. Euron refused guard help, taking only tough hemp rope and special hooked boots. His small body clung to the cold rock face, fingers digging into narrow crevices. Every upward move accompanied a heart beating like a drum and the roar of waves from the abyss below. Salt crystals stung under his nails. When he finally climbed to the top, the gale nearly blew him off! Standing on the square inch at the end of the world, looking down at the bone-crushing waves, a mix of conquest's thrill and awe of nature's power arose. The fog map in his mind instantly lit up this peril, marking hidden seabird nests, ancient weathered runes, and a tidal cave entrance barely large enough for one person.
[Exploration: Discovered Flint Cliffs. Reward: 20 Points.]
The Ghost Tower of the Blind Lord stood on the edge of a desolate salt marsh in Pyke's hinterland. Legend said a Greyjoy lord blinded by his brother was imprisoned here centuries ago until he died mad. The tower, built of massive black stones, was honeycombed by age and salt erosion like a rotting beast's skeleton. Inside, the air was thick with mold, bitter salt, and the indescribable scent of decay sedimented with despair. Light shot through narrow arrow slits, illuminating dancing dust motes, making it even more eerie. The wooden stairs were rotten; Euron climbed with ropes and pitons, assisted by Lysa. The cell at the top was empty, save for mad scratch marks on the walls and dried, blackened stains like ancient blood. Silent wails seemed to echo in the air. When Euron touched the scratches, the cold seeped into his marrow. The system map not only lit up the forgotten tower but also marked an extremely hidden, small cellar entrance deep in the foundation, sealed by salt crystals and rubble!
[Exploration: Discovered Ghost Tower of the Blind Lord. Reward: 20 Points.]
It was these lands measured by footsteps, sweat, and risk—every hidden corner of Pyke, the jagged reefs and lonely islands of the west coast, the dangerous channels of Ironman's Bay—that accumulated heavy capital for him.
Dusk. Atop the highest Eagle's Nest Tower of Pyke, Euron dismissed his attendants and stood alone.
His consciousness sank into the infinite void deep in his mind. A massive screen of light woven from stars and deep blue seawater unfolded—The Pirate King System. On the central map, Pyke was revealed in minute detail: from the perilous silhouette of Flint Cliffs to the hidden cellar of the Ghost Tower; from the distribution of every drying pool in the salt pans to the most hidden berth in the shipyard; even the moldy underground tunnel beneath the old keep leading to the unknown... The fog over Ironman's Bay and the west coast was largely dispelled, marking channels, reefs, and caves.
Exploration Points: 420/100.
This number flickered blue at the top of the screen, wealth exchanged for footsteps, courage, and wisdom.
His gaze focused on the spinning, starlit [Lottery Wheel] in the center. Countless small sectors were shrouded in mist, with only a few glows indicating possibilities: Skills (Deep Blue), Items (Emerald Green), Mounts (Ethereal Purple), Unknown (Chaotic Grey).
"Draw." His mental command was calm and firm.
The wheel exploded with brilliant starlight, the pointer spinning like a stream of light! The misty areas seemed to come alive; blurred runes, phantom creatures, and weapon outlines flashed by. Tension filled the void.
The pointer slowed, carrying the weight of destiny, clicking past the lights...
Ding!
A crisp chime sounded. The pointer stopped in a Deep Blue Ocean sector.
[Congratulations! Obtained: Skill - Basic Navigation]
A stream of cool information like a fresh sea breeze flooded his mind! Celestial navigation (needs calibration with Westeros star charts), reading land from seabirds, sensing subtle currents, predicting storms from clouds, efficient sailing with wind and tide... Knowledge branded like instinct. He felt an invisible umbilical cord connect him to the roaring sea beneath his feet, the whispers of tides echoing in his soul.
"Continue."
The wheel spun again, starlight flowing.
Ding!
The pointer stopped in a Deep Blue sector with abstract waves and a fist.
[Congratulations! Obtained: Skill - Fish-Man Karate (Lv. 1)]
A scorching current rose from his dantian, instantly flowing through his limbs! Muscle fibers were invisibly stretched and tempered, becoming tough and explosive. Strange force-exertion techniques emerged: condensing force like compressed waves to explode at a point (One-Inch Punch), deflecting force like flowing water, treading waves like flat ground... This was a technique tailored for him to overcome strength with softness! He subconsciously punched the air; the trajectory was smooth and strange, actually stirring a faint air vortex!
"Again!"
The wheel spun a third time, light slightly dimmer.
Ding!
The pointer stopped in an Emerald Green sector radiating life.
[Congratulations! Obtained: Item - Vivre Card (Sub-Card x1)]
Light flashed, and a black card the size of a palm, feeling like tough biological membrane, appeared in his hand. Runes glowing with faint green light bordered it. Information flowed in: Drip blood into the central groove. Displays the life sign of the master card holder (bright/fading/extinguished), sub-card always points to master card! Euron didn't hesitate to bite his fingertip, dripping blood. It soaked in instantly, the card glowing, and a tiny but clear Greyjoy Kraken totem made of green stardust floated up, vibrant with life.
Good stuff, but not usable yet. Can't just give this mysterious thing to anyone—explaining it would be a hassle. Euron treasured it, tucking it into a hidden pocket.
One last draw!
The wheel spun, light restrained.
Ding!
The pointer stopped in an Ethereal Purple sector with an abstract galloping horse outline.
[Congratulations! Obtained: Mount - Farul (Juvenile)]
The light dispersed, accompanied by a neigh that was childishly confused yet clear as a silver bell—"Whinny!"
Euron looked down. A small foal was nuzzling his calf with a warm nose. Smaller than a Westerosi pony, but extraordinarily handsome! Snow-white coat flowing with velvet luster, limbs long and powerful. Most captivating were its large eyes, deep pupils burning with two clusters of agile golden flames, full of wisdom and wildness. Its mane and tail swayed gently like flowing night. Though young, the latent nobility, speed, and power were already sharp.
System Info: Farul. Ancient Eastern bloodline, divine steed variant. Extraordinary in youth; unmatched speed and endurance in adulthood; highly spiritual, capable of telepathic bond. Growth requires special care (To be explored). Mount of the One Piece character "White Horse" Cavendish. Elegant yet berserk, loyal protector, fearless in battle.
Farul nuzzled Euron affectionately, golden flame eyes full of trust and curiosity.
Euron stroked Farul's smooth, warm neck, feeling its vigorous vitality. It was a pony suitable for him now, and would grow as he did.
No Devil Fruit, which he wanted most, but the four rewards were extremely practical. Euron was satisfied and looked forward to perfection next time. Looking at Farul, he felt a headache: "Uh, suddenly having an extra pony, how to explain this?"
Sigh, whatever. Just say I saw it in the stables, born of some unknown mare.
Now, he had to think carefully about how to make beautiful packaging for the White Gold Sand, how to brag and advertise everywhere, how to use salt to open trade routes, revitalize the port, and control those disobedient lords...