Dagemo, which one do you value more?

The great doors shut out the last of the light and sound. The vast hall of Black Stone fell into a suffocating silence, broken only by the crackling of burning logs in the hearth, which echoed sharply in the emptiness.

King Kolen Tysso still stood with his back to the door, like an ancient, unmoving reef, enduring the silent storm within him. The hearth fire cast flickering shadows on his broad back, shifting between light and dark. Not far in front of him, the spoils of war—gold coins, silks, jeweled goblets—which glittered enticingly in the firelight, now exuded a cold, ironic aura, like the sharpest mockery of this "victory." What he had exchanged for his son's adventure and the safety of the entire Iron Islands was nothing more than these cold, dead things, and a future that would require even stronger defenses.

His deep voice, heavy with the weight of iron and blood, slowly began to speak, as if to himself, or perhaps to the Black Stone hall that bore the countless generations of House Greyjoy's glory and sin:

"Reaving... is an instinct etched into the very bones of the Ironborn, the only way the Drowned God grants us to live..." His voice sounded particularly heavy in the silence, "But foolishness! Arrogant foolishness! It will gnaw at the hull of our ships like a worm, and in the end... doom the entire Iron Islands!" He paused for a long time, the hearth fire illuminating his tightly pressed lips and deep-set lines of worry. Finally, a barely audible sigh escaped him, filled with complex expectations and stern encouragement for his eldest son: "Baron, my son... I hope the waves of 'Howling Cape' can truly... wash the arrogance from your mind."

"Daggmo," Kolen's voice returned to its usual cold, hard command, still without turning around, "Sit!"

"Cracked Jaw" Daggmo, the old pirate who struck fear into the hearts of his enemies at sea, appeared unusually uneasy. He rubbed his calloused, scarred hands nervously, swallowed, and carefully pulled out a heavy wooden chair opposite King Kolen. The chair legs scraped across the stone floor with a piercing friction that was especially loud in the deathly quiet hall. He sat down stiffly, his back perfectly straight, hands resting on his knees, like a prisoner awaiting judgment, utterly devoid of the ferocity he displayed during sea raids. He stole a glance at the King's mountain-like, solemn back, then quickly lowered his gaze.

"Now," Kolen finally turned around slowly. His weathered eyes, sharp as a falcon's, gleamed coldly and oppressively in the firelight, locking onto Daggmo. "Spill everything you're hiding in your belly about this 'voyage'—every drop of seawater, every gust of sea breeze, every reef... Tell me from the beginning! Don't miss a single word!"

"As you command, my King!" Daggmo took a deep breath, trying to suppress the tension in his heart. His rough voice rang out in the empty hall as he began his long and detailed report.

"Cracked Jaw" Daggmo took a deep breath, as if to expel all the tension from his lungs. His rough voice echoed in the Black Stone hall, where only the crackling of the hearth fire could be heard:

"It all... started when young master Baron got that merchant ship route map at the 'Salty Blood' tavern. It marked the routes and times of fat sheep, spices, silks, gems... Young master Baron's eyes were red then, like a shark smelling blood. Of course, I was just as, if not more, thirsty and hungry." He licked his dry lips. "So I gathered the crew, prepared fresh water and food, and the Hao Yin waited for high tide to set sail. As for young master Yulon, he was only brought aboard before the Hao Yin departed after threatening to report Baron to you."

Daggmo paused here, as if choosing his words carefully. "Young master Yulon... once he was on the ship, he just read his tattered book, seemingly indifferent to everything. When young master Baron decided to go for it, he didn't object, he just... he just asked, 'The map doesn't mark escort ships, nor does it mark water depth or hidden reefs. Father taught me that plundering relies on blades and axes, but also on brains.'"

King Kolen remained with his back to him, motionless, but the flickering light from the hearth fire seemed to pause for a moment on his broad shoulders.

"Young master Baron didn't listen, of course. He cursed, 'What does a brat know?' and then set the plan." Daggmo continued, "Before we actually acted, young master Yulon... he did a few... strange things."

"Speak!" Kolen's voice was like a cold reef.

Daggmo lowered his voice slightly, with a hint of confusion that he himself couldn't understand. "After we captured the prisoners, young master Baron and we were all eager to torture them for information. Axes, skinning knives, whatever hurt the most! But young master Yulon... he was different."

As Daggmo described the interrogation, his tone unconsciously carried a hint of amazement at that "efficiency," even though the method instinctively sent a chill down his spine:

"He was like... like dissecting a fish, my King. He wasn't in a hurry to chop off fingers. He circled the three prisoners, looking at their hands, their clothes, even the old scars on their bodies! He found the scar from a three-edged arrowhead on the sellsword prisoner's shoulder. Then... he used this!" Daggmo subconsciously touched his waist. "Not a knife, but rust! He scraped some rust from the ship's planks and... and precisely stuffed it into that old scar on the sellsword's shoulder! Gods, you didn't hear that scream! It was worse than having a finger chopped off! The sellsword immediately broke down and blurted out the number and location of the guards, even that the servant had no weapons!"

Kolen remained with his back turned, but Daggmo felt the silent gaze grow heavier.

"The most crucial part was that he interrogated them separately! It was Yulon's first voyage, his first raid, and definitely his first interrogation, but he was more skilled and thorough than us old pirates." Daggmo emphasized, "Young master Baron interrogated one, I interrogated another, and he interrogated the third. He asked the same questions: number of ships, cargo, guards, course... Then, like piecing together planks, he compared the testimonies of the three! My King, you know, if they're interrogated separately, inconsistent testimonies mean lies! We... we never did it like this before."

Daggmo paused, seemingly recalling the efficient yet brutal raid. "His attitude towards the prisoners..." He remembered Yulon's final words to the captives. "He gave water to those half-dead men, crouched in front of them, and told them in a voice as cold as ice that if their information was false, they would be skinned and their flesh fed to sea maggots... He also said that if everything went smoothly, he could guarantee they would live... The tone wasn't a threat, it was... stating a fact they couldn't escape. As a result, one of them, truly terrified, shouted 'wildfire'! This piece of information, he squeezed out as an extra!"

"If we hadn't known beforehand, and the Hao Yin had charged forward, that servant boy would have lit a fire, and we'd all have been roasted fish!" Daggmo's voice carried a hint of lingering fear and relief.

"Once the route and time of action were confirmed, we arrived early to ambush. Young master Yulon had a few Ironborn row small boats to scout beneath the narrowest part of the 'Widow's Pass' waterway." A flicker of memory flashed in Daggmo's single eye. "Not to check the reef positions—we know that place well—but to check the currents! To see which reefs would be exposed at low tide, where people could stand, and which waterways would be submerged at high tide, becoming dead ends! He also had Grenn record the locations of the strongest whirlpools... At the time, we all thought this boy was being overly meticulous. In a sea battle, who cares about the currents?"

"What about during the ship boarding?" Kolen finally spoke, his voice betraying no emotion.

"Young master Baron was incredibly brave, the first to jump onto the merchant ship and kill the lookout with one sword strike." Daggmo quickly said, "Old Wick led men to the cargo hold to deal with the wildfire, and they did a beautiful job. But... some details were arranged by young master Yulon." He swallowed. "He had those men who had scouted the currents earlier, carrying poisoned arrows smeared with owl droppings, lie in wait on those reefs exposed at low tide! The positions were tricky, and the currents were strong, so the merchant ship never expected anyone could hide there! The arrows were shot silently, and the effect was excellent! Also, he had Grenn and his men block not the main deck, but the exits of those waterways that would be submerged at high tide! As a result, two guards who tried to jump into the water and escape ran straight into them and drowned in the dead end..."

"And that little girl..." Daggmo hesitated, but still spoke. "Lysa. Young master Baron chose a salt wife according to custom, but young master Yulon wanted the youngest one, the girl from Pentos, as thin as a reed. He said she wouldn't be a salt wife, but a maid. We all laughed at him, thinking he was too young to be ordering girls around... But later, on the ship, I heard that little girl babbling something to him in a language we didn't understand. Young master Yulon was also learning it! The accent... it was strange, like a snake hissing, or a dragon roaring... They called it High Valyrian."

"High Valyrian!"

Daggmo's voice gradually lowered. He felt he had already said too much about the details concerning that "clever devil" of a boy. He secretly glanced up. King Kolen still had his back to him, like an unchanging black reef, only the hearth fire casting flickering shadows upon him. The hall was deathly silent, save for Daggmo's own heavy breathing and the crackling of burning wood.

After a long while, so long that Daggmo felt he was suffocating, Kolen's deep voice slowly sounded, carrying a weight of deep consideration:

"Acting like dissecting a fish... interrogating enemies like observing patterns... using their weaknesses, not their strengths... dividing to observe, combining to verify... even currents, old scars, the human desire to survive, can all be used as blades..." He seemed to be summarizing, or perhaps savoring these unfamiliar traits. "...and he even knows to learn High Valyrian."

King Kolen finally turned around slowly. His falcon-like eyes were as sharp as knives in the firelight, piercing Daggmo. "Daggmo, you tell me, why would an Ironborn, a Greyjoy, need these things...?"

He asked with a half-smile, half-sneer, "You seem to... value Yulon highly?"

"Of course, Yulon is the King's son."

"Merely that?"

Daggmo was rendered speechless, a chill creeping up from the soles of his feet. He opened his mouth, but in the end, he could only bow his head in fear, daring not to meet the King's gaze, which seemed capable of seeing through everything.

"In the storm, young master Yulon was like the Drowned God himself, able to control the sea. I saw him put on the crown of the Grey King..."

In the hall, only the spoils of war remained, silently gleaming with a cold and eerie light in the firelight, and the profound silence like the waves.