The Pirate King System

The days on Pike Island passed by in quiet routine for another two years. It was 275 AC, and Euron Greyjoy was five years old.

Dawn lay veiled in salty mist. The damp sea breeze whipped grains of salt against the rocks. Euron Greyjoy walked barefoot over the slippery stones. Cold seawater washed over his ankles, then receded, leaving behind a layer of tiny bubbles. In the distance, the black silhouette of the Hao Yin appeared and vanished in the fog. The longship sat high in the water, its prow carved into the shape of a gaping dragon's maw, with six brass-rimmed oar ports on either side.

This was the third time he'd secretly come to see the ship.

Ever since Cracked Jaw Daggmo had docked at Pike Island last month to take on supplies, his older brother Balon Greyjoy hadn't taken his eyes off the ship. After that, Balon had spent nearly every day with Daggmo and his crew, drinking, boasting, and sharpening axes. Balon had wanted to go raiding for a long time, and the Hao Yin had given him the chance.

A wise man didn't put himself in danger.

If he could help it, Euron would much rather stay safe inside the castle. But three days ago, when he first stepped barefoot into the sea, he'd heard a sound that made his heart race—

[ Ding! Host has come into contact with seawater. Pirate King System activation: 1% ]

By the Drowned God, he finally had a cheat of his own!

The tide rolled in, washing over his ankles with a strange sense of intimacy amid the cold. Euron suddenly "saw" an octopus three inches underwater, drawing back into a crack in the rocks—not with his eyes, but by sensing the tremors in the current.

He tested the waters and ventured farther out, but as soon as the sea reached his knees, the guard behind him grabbed him and hauled him back.

[ Pirate King System activation: 1.01%. The Pirate King System will fully activate when activation reaches 100%! ]

One voyage might be all it took to activate the system completely!

Euron gazed at the Hao Yin, unconsciously stirring the water with his fingers. To change the course of their lives—his own, his father's, his brothers', his unborn nieces' and nephews', even that of the entire Iron Islands—he needed power. And the Hao Yin had given him exactly that opportunity.

"My lord shouldn't come to a place like this. When those sailors get drunk, they wouldn't care if you were a lord, a king, or even the king himself." Old Wick the fisherman stood on the shore, shielding Euron's view with the hand missing two fingers. "If your father found out you snuck aboard last night..."

"If you don't tell, and I don't tell, my father won't find out." Five-year-old Euron was allowed outside the castle under his guards' supervision, but only along a short stretch of coastline. Kolen trusted old Wick's loyalty, bravery, and skill in a fight, so he had appointed him Euron's guard for the time being.

The sea fog suddenly parted as the wind blew through it. Euron saw a towering figure standing beside the steering oar at the stern. Daggmo's jaw was split in two—that was how he'd earned the nickname Cracked Jaw—and held together with an iron ring. Whenever he drank, dark red wine leaked through the gap. They said he'd cut down seven Myrish sailors by himself in the Stepstones. The golden silk belt he'd taken from them now cinched his greasy leather jerkin.

Euron pointed to the long string of objects hanging from the mast and asked, "What's that?"

Old Wick made a gurgling sound in his throat. "Ears! The ones that haven't dried yet belong to Lyseni merchants. The Hao Yin raided a merchant ship the other day... Each ear marks a successful raid." His voice brimmed with envy, as if the blood-deep urge to raid had been stirred in him.

Euron fished a Silver Stag from his pocket and tossed it to old Wick. "I forgot to congratulate you. Your youngest son is three months old now, isn't he? Spend some time with him. They grow up fast, and then they're not so cute anymore."

The old fisherman caught the coin neatly and chuckled. He understood what Euron meant: he was telling him to give up on going raiding. He nodded. "The young lord is right. Old Wick's too old for anything but fishing in Ironborn Bay."

"Has the little prince come to inspect his fleet again?"

Daggmo's voice was rougher than the waves, but there was a fondness in it. He crouched beside the rocks, last night's mead still clinging to the crack in his jaw, bound with an iron ring. He picked Euron up like a kitten, his large hand missing three fingers surprisingly gentle.

"Your brother's about to do something stupid," Daggmo said, wiping Euron's wet hands on his leather jerkin. "But I'm guessing the little sea monster figured that out long ago?"

The damp planks suddenly creaked. Balon emerged from behind a pile of cargo. At eighteen, he was bulkier than most warriors, his leather vest stained with last night's ale and a woman's powder. A newly sharpened axe hung at his waist, its blade gleaming blue-gray in the morning mist.

"Is the little mouse spying on me?" Balon grabbed Euron by the collar, his breath reeking of sea salt. "Planning to betray your dear brother?"

Euron's feet dangled above the ground. He saw the new scar on the side of Balon's neck—the one Kolen had given him with a whip three days ago, when their father had roared that the eldest Greyjoy shouldn't go about like some common pirate.

Euron blinked. "The eastern reefs will be covered by the high tide tonight." He pointed at the Hao Yin. "With a southwesterly wind, we can get beyond Father's reach before dawn."

Balon's blue eyes narrowed to slits. A horn sounded in the distance, calling the crew to assemble. The Hao Yin was hauling in its gangplank.

"Brother," Balon said, his voice taut as a sail rope. "If you tell Father..." His hand rested on the axe haft, but his eyes darted about like a child caught misbehaving. "A smart man knows when to keep his mouth shut." He flung Euron onto the wet sand like a catch of fish, then strode toward the longship, warning him without looking back, "If Mother asks, tell her I went to Old Wick Island to spar with House Stone Tree."

"Mother won't believe that." Euron stood up, dusted the sand off his backside, and snorted. "Even a three-year-old knows what you're going to do with Daggmo!"

Balon whirled around, his eyes fierce. "You little bastard! Think I won't tie you to a rock and let you taste a drowning again?"

Euron grinned. "I won't tell on you, unless... you let me sail with the Hao Yin!"

Old Wick the fisherman stared at him, dumbfounded. "S-sail?"

Balon burst out laughing. "Sail? What do you think we're doing, fishing?!"

"Not fishing. We're going to raid merchant ships."

"You're five!"

"Even at five, I'm Ironborn. I'm Kolen Greyjoy's son, and heir to the Iron Islands!"

Balon ground his teeth in fury. "Swords don't care who they hit, and blood will fly. You think raiding is a game? The old maester and his pile of moldy scrolls are waiting for you up in the tower."

"Don't you always say books are useless, and a true Ironborn should learn to handle a longship and swing a battle-axe?" Euron taunted him. "Or do you want your five-year-old brother charging in first... Or maybe Balon Greyjoy, self-proclaimed best swordsman in the Iron Islands, can't even protect his own little brother?"

Balon's face flushed. He grabbed Euron by the collar, his grin—missing a front tooth—looking vicious in the morning light. "If you're not afraid to die, then I'll show you the true Old Way!"

Old Wick the fisherman stepped in front of Balon, his burly hand gripping the axe haft, his gaze fierce. "Put the young lord down!"

Balon put Euron down, then bared his teeth at Wick and drew his sword. "The old fool only cares about the young lord. I'm the future king of the Iron Islands, too! What is it, old man? Want to see if my sword's sharp?"

"This was my idea alone. It has nothing to do with any of you!" Euron waved to old Wick the fisherman and laughed. "Wick, go back and tell my father that I'll return with a ship full of spoils in half a month, or a month at most!"

When old Wick the fisherman saw there was no stopping him, he leaped aboard the ship, his face livid. "I'm your guard. If you sail off to your death, how can I go back and face the king? Even if he doesn't kill me, I'd be too ashamed to show my face!"

The Hao Yin's sails rose, the black canvas emblazoned with the Daggmo family's sigil: a sea snake biting its own tail. As the last mooring line came free, a small flag suddenly rose at the top of the mast: the Greyjoy golden kraken writhed menacingly in the morning light.

The corner of Euron's mouth lifted slightly. System activation: 1.5%.