An ambush at sea

The wind at sea always carries an unpredictable fierceness. Colin Celtigar stood alone on the modified bow of his new vessel, the "Raging Waves," his fingertips tracing the edge of the newly added ram. The metal sheet wrapped around the hardwood felt cool and solid.

Five fast ships, arranged in a wedge formation, broke through the morning mist. The scarlet and black mutated Targaryen three-headed dragon patterns on their sails gleamed coldly in the morning light, like five sharp blades about to pierce the heart of their prey.

The route strictly followed the edge of the reef area within the Summer Sea region south of the Narrow Sea Stepstones on the southern coast of the Narrow Sea. This sea area lies between the Narrow Sea and the Summer Sea, separated by the Stepstones. Below this area, Colin's fleet had just left the Stepstones region, which was the only route that Ironborn slave ships had to take to and from Slaver's Bay from the Sunset Sea. This sea area, not too far from the Stepstones, had a reef-strewn terrain that was perfect for an ambush.

"Cousin, we should reach the designated ambush point in about three hours."

A young sailor, also from the House Celtigar, carrying a newly drawn nautical chart, quickly walked to his cousin Colin's side.

However, the boy's face had long lost the playfulness expected of his age, leaving only focus. "As instructed by Lord Crahas when we left port, the three scout boats have already sailed ten miles ahead and sent back news that the Iron Islands ' slave fleet is sailing close to the southern waters of the Stepstones. There are four ships in total, and they are all heavily drafted, so they look like they are fully loaded with cargo."

Colin nodded, his gaze sweeping over the heavy ballistae on either side of the ship's hull.

These weapons, improved under the guidance of Crahas after consulting with artisans and scholars in the port of Myr, featured gun carriages equipped with pulleys that made them 30% easier to rotate than before, and their arrows were so sharp that they could even penetrate the thick wooden planks of ships.

"Have the crew check the crossbow strings and rams," he said in a deep voice. "The Ironborn of the Iron Islands are accustomed to raiding in coastal waters; their ships are fast and agile, but their slave ships are full of people, so their speed must be limited. We'll use the reefs to force them to slow down, then combine 2X/P..."

JNIJUJJ's mouth-wrap attack.

The crew responded swiftly, and the sound of machinery clanging echoed across the deck.

Colin gazed at the misty sea in the distance, recalling Prince Daemon's instructions to him before departure. "This slave transport route in the Iron Islands is not a simple Sunset Sea - Summer Sea - Slaver's Bay." They had deliberately bypassed the Joint Fleet's patrol route this time.

"Ever since these despicable Ironborn opened the triangular trade between their Iron Islands, Summer Isles, and Slaver's Bay," they have frequently colluded with Slaver's Bay, likely harboring a larger scheme behind it.

He gripped the sword at his waist, his knuckles turning white, and thought to himself:

This mission aims not only to disrupt Iron Throne Iron Islands's Ironborn, which avoids the patrol range of the Westeros Joint Fleet, but also to uncover evidence of the Ironborn's connections beyond the Slaver's Bay trade.

At noon, the reconnaissance boats sent out earlier transmitted a signal: the slave ships of the Iron Islands had entered the ambush zone that had been prepared for them.

At Colin's command, the five speedboats quickly dispersed, forming a semi-circular encirclement under the cover of the reefs.

As expected, the slave ships from the Iron Islands slowed down. Their hulls were black, and they flew the banners of the Drowned God worshipped by the Ironborn.

The emblem, the ram at the bow, is menacing and terrifying, yet appears cumbersome due to its full load.

"Attack!" Colin drew his longsword first, and the flagship "Raging Waves" followed suit, charging out of the reef. Ballistae fired in unison, and huge arrows rained down on the sails of the slave ship.

With a few sharp "snap" sounds, the mainsail of the outermost slave ship was pierced by a bullet, the canvas collapsed instantly, the ship lost power, and spun around on the sea.

Seeing this, the other three ships tried to scatter and escape, but were relentlessly pursued by the Dragon's Roost Port speedboat, which had already taken up a favorable position.

The remaining two fast ships flanked from the south, and their ballistae accurately hit the steering wheel of a large escort ship carrying slave ships. The escort ship immediately went out of control and crashed straight into a reef, tearing a large gash in its hull and letting seawater rush in instantly.

The crew members jumped onto the enemy's deck and engaged in fierce fighting with the Ironborn. The earliest crew members of Dragon's Roost Port had actually been tempered in the naval battle against the Triarchy in the Stepstones before they underwent Crahas's specialized training.

Now, these elite troops are incredibly skilled in boarding combat, and their seamless teamwork quickly suppressed the Ironborn's resistance.

Colin leaped onto the slave ship corresponding to the flagship, his sword slicing across the wrist of an Ironborn man who screamed and dropped his axe.

He scanned the cabin and saw that the dimly lit space was crammed with slaves, most of them huddled together, mostly ragged and looking terrified.

But what shocked Colin was that the skin color of these slaves was not the dark brown of the natives of the Summer Isles, but rather the light skin common on the Westeros, and several even had the pale complexion typical of the people of the the North.

"Don't move!" a Dragon's Roost Port sailor shouted, sword raised. But instead of panicking and fleeing as the sailors expected, several of them immediately looked up upon hearing Common Tongue and cried out in fluent Westeros, Common Tongue that would astound the sailors. "We are Ironborn Westeros who have been kidnapped! Save us!"

These words struck Colin like a thunderbolt, leaving him completely stunned.

He bent down to help up a middle-aged man beside him who looked cleaner and more noble. The man's sleeve was torn, but one could still vaguely make out the noble crest on it: a man wearing a turban with a gray background and a flame border. This was the sigil of the House Banefort, the Banefort of the Westerlands!

This middle-aged man was actually a nobleman from the Westerlands coastal region, across from the southeastern corner of the Iron Islands!

"What are you doing here?" Colin asked in a deep voice.

"I was kidnapped three months ago while traveling by ship to the Riverlands for business," the man said in a hoarse voice, his eyes filled with fear and relief. "And the Reach, and even the the North— the Ironborn have secretly abducted us from all over the sea. They say the nobles of Slaver's Bay are disgusted with those savage Mudmen of the Summer Isles and want to transport us to Slaver's Bay to sell to slave owners. And many have already died along the way!"

Colin's heart sank. Geographically speaking, the Ironborn would set out from the Iron Islands, plunder the Westeros coast along the Sunset Sea, then cross the Summer Sea, passing through this middle sea between the southern Stepstones and the northern Summer Isles, heading towards Slaver's Bay. This route was more ambitious than anticipated.

He turned to his adjutant and said, "Carefully count the number of people and record their origins. Also, capture the ship owner alive; I want to interrogate him personally."

As dusk fell, the ambush ended.

All four slave ships were captured, freeing nearly two hundred slaves. The largest number of slaves were from the Riverlands, with over eighty, followed by the the North with over sixty, and the Westerlands with nearly thirty. More than twenty of the slaves came from the Reach, and there were even a Dornish.

Most of them could speak fluent Common Tongue, but they appeared weak due to their long-term imprisonment.

Colin had his crew distribute water and food to the slaves, and watching them devour it only strengthened his resolve to completely destroy this slave transport route.

While it might be possible to find a reason to intervene in the Summer Isles' human trafficking outside the Iron Islands Iron Throne's rule, if these audacious individuals dare to plunder Westeros's merchant ships, fishermen, or even nobles in private, they are simply courting death!

"The ship owner has been brought here!" Two crew members escorted a Ironborn with a fierce expression. The man had a face full of scars, bloodstains at the corner of his mouth, and a menacing look in his eyes.

"What are you Iron Islands plotting with those slave owners in Slaver's Bay?" Colin pressed the tip of his sword against his throat. "What other outposts are there on the new slave transport route?"

Ironborn sneered, about to speak, but was interrupted by a wealthy merchant from the Westerlands who frequently sailed the Sunset Sea and dealt with them.

He said, "He is their new High Overlord of the Iron Islands, a confidant of Gorne Greyjoy's maternal line, and a member of House Harlaw of Harlaw! I met him before I was captured; he was in charge of directing the slave ships on this new route!"

Upon hearing that this person came from the House Harlaw and was a close confidant of Gorne's maternal line, Colin's eyes narrowed, and a surge of excitement welled up inside him. This Ironborn of money-grubbing Ironborn actually had such a "noble" leader, and was directly connected to Gorne himself. The task His Highness Daemon had entrusted to him before his departure—finding evidence of the Iron Islands' collusion with overseas forces—had been accomplished with effortless ease. This was enough to provide His Highness with a legitimate reason to wage war!

He tightened the grip of his sword. "Speak! Or I'll throw you to feed the fish right now!"

Ironborn's face turned pale, and he finally relented. "My cousin has made an agreement with the Yellow Brick Nobles of Yunkai to send a batch of Westeros slaves every three months in exchange for weapons and spices!"

The new shipping route has a secret supply point on the western side of the Summer Isles, where local tribes will provide support!

This idiot even revealed that, in addition to Yunkai, the Iron Islands had also contacted other forces in Slaver's Bay, planning to further expand their "procurement" scope six months later, once the shipping routes were stable.

It seems that after the Triarchy's defeat at the Stepstones, the Lys lay low, and their previous "dirty" slave trade was completely taken over by these Ironborn from Westeros.

Colin had his adjutant meticulously record all the intelligence, even deliberately embellishing it to portray it as something far more complex than a simple slave trade, but rather a joint conspiracy targeting the Iron Throne.

He immediately ordered the fleet to return to Dragon's Roost Port overnight with the prisoners and slaves, and to report this important intelligence to Daemon as soon as possible.

As dusk settled, the waves of the Summer Sea turned a deep black. Colin stood at the stern of the "Raging Waves," watching the four slave ships being towed leave long trails on the sea. The sea breeze, carrying a salty smell, brushed against his sweaty brow.

The lieutenant had finished compiling the interrogation records and the slave register. The writing on the parchment was dense and detailed, each stroke outlining the Ironborn's ambition and the family crest of the House Harlaw —a black and silver sickle symbolizing their sinful leader; their collusion with the Yunkai nobles of Slaver's Bay; the secret supply depot on the Summer Isles; and the impending expansion of their plundering plans. All of this was irrefutable evidence that could shake the entire Westeros.

"Raise the sails and head back at full speed." Colin turned to the helmsman, his voice hoarse from the battle, yet undeniably resolute. "Aside from a brief rest at the Stepstones, we'll return to Dragon's Roost Port as quickly as possible. This intelligence must be delivered to His Highness Daemon immediately."

The crew responded in unison, the sound of adjusting the sails and ropes particularly clear in the night. The five fast ships, carrying the slave ships carrying the prisoners and rescued slaves, changed course and sped toward Dragon's Roost Port.

The crimson and black dragon patterns on the sails, like a lurking Black Dragon under the starlight and moonlight, cleaved through the waves, carrying secrets that could rewrite the landscape of the Summer Sea, heading towards that rising land.

On the distant horizon, the lights of Dragon's Roost Port were not visible, but Colin knew that there lay His Highness Daemon's strategic planning, the exquisite tools of the Myr craftsmen from Crahas' hometown, and countless loyal warriors awaiting orders.

This ambush victory is merely the prelude; the real Storm is about to descend upon the waters of the Summer Isles, guided by Daemon Blackfyre's three-headed Black Dragon banner.