Below the cliffs west of Pyke, the rocky shore was battered by a roaring sea, and the salty wind cut like a knife. Each wave that crashed against the jagged black reefs sent white spray flying and thunderous booms echoing through the air. In this perilous place, where ordinary people would hardly dare venture, young Euron Greyjoy was undergoing a nearly brutal combat training session with Balf, a fierce instructor from the Iron Islands.
Balf, nicknamed Bonebreaker, swung a heavy wooden practice axe with broad, sweeping movements, every motion filled with the Ironborn's innate ferocity and courage. Each chop came with a muffled rush that seemed to tear through the air, while every sweep sent pebbles and grit flying like a miniature tsunami. His combat philosophy was simple and direct: crush your opponent with strength, and fight to the death!
"Ha!" Balf roared. His wooden axe came crashing down from the upper left, as if it could split mountains and shatter stone, aiming straight for Euron's slender shoulder.
Euron was small, but as nimble as a ghostly octopus slipping between reefs. He knew that meeting Balf head-on would mean certain death. The instant the axe's shrill whistle reached him, his left leg slid backward like lightning, and his body leaned to the right as far as it could, like a reed pulled by an invisible giant hand! The heavy wooden axe swept past the tip of his nose with the reek of death and slammed down with a boom. The hard basalt reef beneath his feet cracked like a spiderweb, sending shards flying!
Taking advantage of the brief moment when Balf was recovering from his swing, Euron sprang up like a tightly compressed spring! The short wooden sword in his hand darted toward Balf's exposed right flank like a striking serpent, its angle tricky and its speed as swift as lightning!
"Cunning!" Balf growled. His enormous body twisted with astonishing agility, and the thick leather vambrace narrowly deflected the deadly thrust. The wooden sword scraped across the leather with a piercing screech.
Euron panted as he retreated several steps. Sweat mingled with the cold seawater splashed onto him and ran down his taut jawline. His mismatched eyes—his left eye swallowing defeat like an abyss, his right eye holding back resentment like a frozen sea—stared fixedly at Balf.
Daggmo stood between them, stopping Euron from continuing the training. "Your mind is as quick as lightning, young master! But your body... can't keep up! Lord Balf's fighting style is for men who can withstand the first axe swing and deliver the second! If you keep training, your bones will break first!"
Strength! This five-year-old body was his greatest constraint! Balf's traditional Ironborn approach of overpowering skill with brute force was a dead end for him.
"You're right, Daggmo. I need... the Water Flow Sword." Euron panted, his voice sharp as the sea wind. His gaze passed over Balf and Daggmo to the turbulent Narrow Sea. "I've heard about the Water Dancers of Braavos... Their swords are light and nimble, leaving no opening untouched. They overcome strength with skill. Daggmo, has Mario returned to the Free Cities yet?"
Daggmo thought for a moment before replying, "At this pace, it'll be at least three more days."
Euron nodded. "Give Mario a task. Have him find me a suitable Braavosi Water Dancer Swordsman."
"I'm sure he'll do everything he can!"
Combat training was only one part of Euron's life. He devoted even more of his time to exploring every uncharted corner of Pike Island, seeking the precious "Exploration Points." It was no leisurely stroll, but a journey filled with challenges and danger.
Flint Cliff was a terrifying stretch of sheer rock on the northeastern tip of Pike Island. Jagged pillars of black basalt thrust into the dark green sea like giant spears driven into it by the Drowned God in his fury. The sea wind compressed into a shrill howl here, and the salt it carried stung his face like sandpaper. Euron refused the guards' help and took only a sturdy hemp rope and specially made hooked boots. His small body clung to the cold cliff face, his fingertips digging into narrow cracks in the rock while the toes of his boots pressed into hollows carved by the wind. Every upward movement came with a pounding heartbeat and the thunder of waves below, like the breathing of a giant beast. Salt crystals worked their way under his fingernails, bringing a sharp, piercing pain. When he finally reached the top, the gale nearly swept him off his feet! Standing on a patch of ground no bigger than a few square feet, at what felt like the edge of the world, he looked down at the waves crashing to pieces below. A thrill of triumph mingled with awe at the power of nature. The fog on the map in his mind lifted instantly, revealing this perilous location and marking hidden seabird nests, an ancient Ironborn rune weathered by the wind, and the entrance to a tidal cave hollowed out by the waves, barely large enough for one person to hide in.
[Exploration: Discovered Flint Cliff. Gained 20 Exploration Points.]
The Blind Lord's Ghost Tower stood at the edge of a desolate salt marsh in the heart of Pike Island. Legend had it that centuries ago, a Greyjoy lord whose brothers had blinded him was imprisoned in the isolated tower until he went mad and died. The tower was built from enormous blocks of black stone, and centuries of weathering and salt erosion had pitted its surface like a honeycomb, making it resemble the rotting bones of a giant beast. Inside, a dense, inescapable stench of mildew mingled with the bitterness of sea salt and an indescribable, decaying odor that seemed to hold the despair of countless souls. Thin shafts of light entered through narrow arrow slits, illuminating the dust drifting through the air and making the tower seem even more sinister. The wooden stairs had long since rotted away, so Euron had to climb with ropes and pitons, struggling upward with Lysa's help. The prison cell at the top was empty, its walls covered with frantic scratch marks and dried, blackened stains like ancient blood. It seemed that silent wails still echoed through the air. When Euron ran his hand over the scratches, the cold sensation went straight to his bones. The system map not only revealed the forgotten ghost tower, but also marked an extremely well-hidden entrance to a small cellar beneath the foundations, sealed off by salt crystals and rubble!
[Exploration: Discovered the Blind Lord's Ghost Tower. Gained 20 Exploration Points.]
It was these lands, measured out with his own footsteps, sweat, and even the occasional risk—the hidden corners of Pyke, the jagged reefs and lonely islands along Westeros's western coast, the dangerous and complicated sea lanes of Ironborn Bay—that had given him a substantial store of capital.
At dusk, in the highest tower of Pyke, the Eyrie Tower, Euron dismissed everyone and stood alone.
His consciousness sank into the boundless void deep within his mind. A vast screen woven from stars and deep blue seawater unfolded before him—the Pirate King System. On the map at its center, every detail of Pike Island was now visible, like a specimen that had been thoroughly dissected: from the perilous contours of Flint Cliff to the hidden cellar entrance beneath the Blind Lord's Ghost Tower; from the layout of every drying pond at the salt works to the most secluded berths at the shipyard; even a moldy passage beneath the old keep, leading into the unknown... Much of the fog over Ironborn Bay and the western coast had also cleared, revealing sea lanes, reefs, and hidden caves.
Exploration Points: 420/100.
The number glowed blue at the top of the screen, a fortune earned through his own footsteps, courage, and wisdom.
His gaze focused on the [Lucky Draw Wheel] spinning endlessly at the center of the screen, radiating an alluring starlight. Countless tiny segments were shrouded in mist, with only a few faint glimmers hinting at what they might hold: skills (deep blue), items (emerald green), mounts (dusky purple), and unknown (chaotic gray).
"Draw." The command in his mind was calm and resolute.
The wheel suddenly erupted in brilliant starlight, and the pointer became a streak of light as it spun wildly! The misty segments seemed to come alive. Countless blurry runes, strange creature silhouettes, and weapon outlines flashed past at dizzying speed, like a fleeting glimpse of the river of fate. Tension filled the void.
The pointer slowed, each segment it passed carrying the weight of destiny...
Ding!
A crisp chime rang out, and the pointer stopped in a deep blue sea of light.
[Congratulations! You have obtained: Skill—Basic Navigation]
A cool stream of information, like a fresh sea breeze, flowed into his mind! Navigating by the stars (requires calibration with a Westerosi star chart), using seabird flight paths to identify land, sensing subtle ocean currents, reading cloud formations to predict storms, and sailing efficiently with the wind and tides... The knowledge was branded into him like instinct. It was as if he had formed an invisible umbilical cord with the roaring sea beneath his feet, and the whisper of the tides rang out deep in his soul.
"Continue."
The wheel spun again, starlight streaming around it.
Ding!
The pointer stopped on a deep blue segment bearing an abstract wave and fist.
[Congratulations! You have obtained: Skill—Fish-Man Karate v1]
A searing current rose from his lower abdomen and instantly flowed through every limb! His muscle fibers stretched and tempered under an unseen force, becoming supple yet packed with explosive strength. Strange techniques for generating force surfaced in his mind: concentrating power like a compressed wave and releasing it at a single point (short-range shock), redirecting force like flowing water to disperse a powerful impact, and walking over waves and commanding a ship as easily as if on level ground... This was exactly the technique he needed, one that used softness to overcome hardness and skill to overcome strength! He instinctively punched the air. His movement was smooth yet strange, even stirring a faint vortex in the air!
"Again!"
The wheel spun for the third time, its light dimmer now.
Ding!
The pointer stopped on a segment radiating a life-filled green glow.
[Congratulations! You have obtained: Item—Vivre Card (Sub-Card x1)]
A brief flash of light, and a black card appeared in his hand. It was about the size of his palm and felt like a tough membrane of living tissue. Runes emitting a faint green glow were embedded along its edges. Information flowed into his mind: drip blood into the central groove. The life mark of the one holding the main card would appear (bright when alive, dim when dying, gone when dead). The sub-card would always point toward the main card! Without hesitation, Euron bit his fingertip and let a crimson drop of blood fall into the groove. The blood seeped in at once, and a faint glow coursed across the card. A tiny but distinct Greyjoy kraken sigil made of green stardust appeared, brimming with life.
A good item, though he couldn't use it yet. He couldn't just hand something so mysterious to someone else—explaining where it had come from alone would take quite a bit of effort. Euron carefully tucked it into an inner pocket of his clothes.
One final lucky draw!
The wheel spun, its light drawing inward.
Ding!
The pointer stopped on a dusky purple segment bearing the silhouette of a running horse.
[Congratulations! You have obtained: Mount—Faruru (Juvenile)]
As the light faded, a young, bewildered but clear, silver-bell-like whinny rang out—"Neigh!"
Euron looked down. A foal was gently rubbing its warm nose against his lower leg. It was smaller than a Westerosi pony, yet magnificently built! Its snow-white coat shimmered like velvet, and its four slender hooves looked strong and sturdy. Most captivating of all were its large eyes. Two lively golden flames burned in their depths, full of intelligence and wildness, while its mane and tail swayed softly like flowing night. Though still young, its latent nobility, speed, and strength were already unmistakable.
System Information: Faruru, a magnificent and rare breed of ancient Eastern bloodline. Exceptional even in youth, it will possess unmatched speed and endurance when fully grown, along with exceptional intelligence and the ability to communicate telepathically. It requires special care to grow (details to be explored). The mount of the popular Pirate King character "White Horse" Cavendish. Elegant and wild, loyal to its master and fearless in battle.
Faruru nuzzled Euron affectionately, its golden-flame eyes full of trust and curiosity.
Euron gently stroked Faruru's smooth, warm neck, feeling its vigorous vitality. For now, it was a small horse suited to his size, and it would grow alongside him.
He hadn't gotten the Devil Fruit he most wanted to see, but all four rewards were very useful. Euron was satisfied and looked forward to an even better result next time. Looking at Faruru, he felt a headache coming on. "Uh, a foal suddenly appeared. How am I supposed to explain this?"
Oh, whatever. He'd just say he'd found it in the stable and didn't know which mare had given birth to it.
Now he needed to think carefully about how to give Platinum Sand attractive packaging and brag about it everywhere to drum up publicity, how to use salt to open up trade routes, how to use salt to revitalize the port, and how to use salt to control those disobedient lords...
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