To ensure the execution ceremony—destined to reshape the order of the Stepstones—proceeded without interference, Euron Greyjoy's will transformed into a cold and clear warning. Through countless channels, it spread instantly to every island and ship in these waters:
"The war is over."
"Until the Day of Execution, maintain silence. Maintain peace."
"Anyone stirring up trouble will be destroyed."
This order was not a negotiation; it was a decree. It carried the despairing power demonstrated in the bloody naval battle that preceded it.
The result was immediate. The Stepstones, once rife with pirate raids, private feuds, and clamor, suddenly plunged into an eerie, suffocating silence under this unprecedented pressure.
All ships that caught wind of the news—whether local powers or passing travelers—became unprecedentedly "well-behaved." They lowered their flags and reduced their speed, moving silently like a funeral procession toward Grey Gallows Island. The sea lost its usual noise and conflict; only the monotonous sound of oars breaking the water and the wind whimpering through the masts remained.
Even merchant convoys merely planning to pass through received unquestionable instructions: Halt all navigation. You may only leave after the curtain falls on the execution at Grey Gallows. Huge commercial interests were forced to make way for absolute force.
No protests. No dissent.
In these waters shrouded by the "Crown of Sea Skulls" and the shadows of deep-sea monsters, the instinct for survival outweighed everything else. After all, compared to any possible loss, being alive was more important than anything.
---
Seven days passed in a flash.
Grey Gallows Island, a place historically shunned for its desolation and role as a hanging ground, now welcomed an unprecedented "bustle." But this bustle wasn't festive; it was a grand gathering of oppression and fear, forcibly coerced by powerful military might.
The sea was crowded with ships, yet they were abnormally quiet, like a silent herd of beasts.
The "Triarchy Alliance," representing the traditional order of the Stepstones, made its appearance first. Their Allied Commander, General Gustav Drummond, stepped onto the island in crisp military uniform, his expression grave, as if every step carried the future of the city-states. Following him were representatives from Tyrosh, Lys, and Myr, dressed in varied splendor—Tyroshi painted silks, Lysene flamboyant velvet and gold chains, Myrish exquisite embroidery—creating a striking visual array that couldn't hide the caution and calculation between their brows.
The owner of Silent Bay—the Stepstones' famous neutral ground, a marketplace of desire and secrets—arrived on schedule.
The "Black Pearl," a legendary woman draped in black gauze like the night, exuded a unique charm with her graceful figure and cold temperament. Her appearance itself was a strong signal. Even more eye-catching was the ship behind her, where a group of stunningly beautiful women in attire from various nations looked curiously at this grim place, adding an eerie and seductive color to this ritual of death.
The scattered pirate captains who had survived the war and chosen to submit gathered in small groups in the corners. Their clothing was a motley mix, and their faces showed a blend of unease, relief at survival, and confusion about the new order. They whispered among themselves, eyes darting around, carefully observing the big shots in the center, trying to divine their own fates from the movements of the powerful.
Even more numerous were the caravan leaders and wealthy merchants from all sides, forced to stay. They stood at a relatively safe distance, watching solemnly. For them, this was not just an execution, but the coronation of a new king. They were witnessing the complete transfer of power in the Stepstones with their own eyes, rapidly calculating the "new tax rates" they would have to pay and the "new rules" they must follow to trade here in the future.
Everything converged here, on Grey Gallows Island, shrouded in the shadow of death and the rising star of power, waiting for the arrival of the ruler and the boundaries of the new era he would draw with blood.
---
The Seventh Day. Grey Gallows Island.
The coarse sea breeze swept over the temporary platform built in the center of the island, making a whimpering sound.
A massive execution scaffold, cobbled together from fresh timber and old shipwrecks, stood on the high ground. Its shadow looked particularly grim under the thin sunlight.
On the scaffold, the once-mighty Pirate King "Bloodhand" Marlin and "Skull King" Mor Bones knelt on the rough planks, hands bound behind their backs.
Ragged and covered in wounds, their former arrogance was gone, leaving only the humiliation of defeat and fear of their impending fate.
Below the stage, representatives from various factions of the Stepstones were silent, watching it all.
Euron Greyjoy slowly ascended the high platform.
Euron wore no armor, only a simple dark robe. On the robe, the golden kraken totem shone brightly, carrying an undeniable majesty. His gaze swept calmly over the audience below, like a host surveying his guests.
Euron spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it strangely overpowered the wind, clearly reaching everyone's ears.
"First, thank you all for coming." Euron's opening was concise to the point of politeness, as if this were truly just an ordinary gathering.
Then, his tone turned cold as he pointed to the two men kneeling behind him. "Second, the Iron Islands came from afar to wage this war because of these two cowards!" His voice rose sharply, carrying cold anger. "They dared to plunder and cruelly murder the children of the Iron Islands who had paid taxes and were under my protection! Such acts are the greatest blasphemy against me, Euron Greyjoy, against the Iron Islands, and against the Drowned God! Blood debts must be paid in blood!"
---
After declaring the reason for the judgment, his voice returned to calm but contained a stronger, unquestionable power:
"Furthermore, since you are all here, I take this opportunity to announce: From this day forth, the Iron Islands will officially station forces in the Stepstones."
He paused slightly, letting the weight of this sentence press fully on everyone's heart, before continuing slowly, his words grand yet heavy as iron:
"We will contribute our strength to maintain peace and stability in these waters. Ensuring smooth trade, clearing out lawlessness, and establishing a new... order."
His words nailed the coffin shut on the old era and raised the curtain on a new one led by him.
After a brief silence, a burst of applause erupted from the crowd below—not from the heart, but incredibly enthusiastic.
The applause started sporadically, then spread rapidly, rising and falling like a surging tide—this was awe for absolute power, and a compromise for survival.
Amidst this distorted "praise," Euron Greyjoy walked slowly up to the execution block. His steps were steady and leisurely, as if he were stepping not onto a bloody scaffold, but onto his throne. He stopped in front of the two kneeling defeated kings and slowly drew the long sword at his waist.
The blade was elegant yet sharp, its steel flowing with cold light under the gray sky—"Oto" (Cherry Ten), the sword of "Golden Lion" Shiki. As the famous blade was unsheathed, it emitted a clear hum, as if thirsting to drink the blood of enemies.
Euron reached out. Instead of using the blade immediately, he pulled the rags from the mouths of "Bloodhand" Marlin and "Skull King" Mor Bones, granting them the right to speak one last time. His voice was waveless, yet carried a sense of finality: "Finally, do you have anything left to say?"
"Skull King" Mor Bones jerked his head up. A crazy, hideous grin squeezed onto his twisted face, and his hoarse throat erupted with laughter like broken bellows. "Heh heh... Nothing to say! I expected this end long ago! I just never thought... so many 'big shots' would come to see me off! Haha... worth it!"
Euron nodded slightly, seeming to approve of this answer.
He gave no chance for another word.
Nor was there any warning.
The cold light of "Oto" drew a beautiful and cruel arc in the air—so fast the trajectory was almost invisible.
In the next second, Mor Bones' laughing expression froze on his face. His massive head left his neck, and his heavy body slumped forward.
Euron didn't even spare a second glance at the spraying blood or the fallen corpse. With a casual flick of his hand, as if discarding trash, he accurately tossed the still-twitching head into the distance. It traced a parabola and landed steadily at the very top of the newly built "Crown of Sea Skulls."
With a casual shake of his wrist, Euron sent "Oto," stained with warm blood, slicing through the air. The thick drops of blood were flung precisely from the blade, pattering onto the dry planks like a broken necklace of rubies, blooming into dark red spots. In the blink of an eye, the legendary sword was pristine again, cold light flowing along its edge as if it had never touched filth.
Kneeling nearby, "Bloodhand" Marlin witnessed this scene. Forgetting his own predicament, he whispered in admiration, "Good sword."
Euron turned his head, giving him a smile almost like chatting with a friend. "It is."
But Marlin's next words shattered this eerie peace instantly. He suddenly looked up, staring intently into Euron's bottomless eyes, and burst into deafening laughter filled with the pleasure of mad revenge:
"That ship of Ironborn! I told that idiot Mor Bones to raid and kill them! But—" His laughter stopped abruptly. His voice, like a poisoned dagger, turned sharply toward the gorgeously dressed, now pale-faced group at the front of the crowd below. "The ones who ordered me to do it were them!!"
His bloodshot eyeballs were pinned dead on the representatives of the Triarchy, specifically in the direction of Allied Commander Gustav Drummond. With the last of his strength, he roared:
"It was Commander Gustav Drummond who personally gave us the order! He said, 'Rob those Ironborn ships, kill those Ironborn, and eliminate future trouble!'!!"
"Boom—"
Like a giant boulder dropped into a silent pool, the entire venue erupted into an uproar. All eyes shot like arrows toward the delegation of the Triarchy Alliance.
Commander Gustav Drummond's face turned paper-white. He jumped up, trembling all over from extreme terror and rage, shouting disregard for his dignity: "Bullshit! He's lying! A mad dog biting randomly before death!"
Marlin didn't look at him again. He just looked back at Euron, wearing a hideous smile of release. "I've said my piece. Kill me."
Euron's gaze slowly swept over the agitated Commander Gustav, his look chillingly calm. He raised "Oto" again and said indifferently to Marlin, "I will verify whether your words are true or false."
Before the blade fell, Euron left a final whisper, like a verdict from the abyss:
"In your next life, remember not to oppose the Iron Islands. And do not choose me as your enemy!"